Raine the Banshee
by Azurielle
Summary: Waking up with amnesia was bad... growing up poor, in the Moonshaes, was tough...the uncontrollable screaming was a problem...dying sucked...but waking up with magic tattoos that controlled her actions was just the beginning of Raine's troubles.
1. Default Chapter

**Note:** This story is mine, begun in the year 2001, and finished as of February 2002.  Not all of the characters are mine, for example, Dove and Storm.  Those characters belong to Wizards of the Coast, and the writers of the forgotten Realms novels in which they appear.  The original characters, like Raine, Tristain, Andar, Dazelin, Gull, etc. are mine, however, and are not to be used without my permission.  Some of the plots may seem familiar, as they were based on adventures published in the Dragon magazines, and the Pool of Radiance supplement put out by Wizards of the Coast.  The rest of the plots are mine.  This story was written for purely entertainment purposes and not to make any money.  Thank you, and I hoped you enjoyed it. Thanks, Azurielle.

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**Raine the Banshee**

**By Azurielle**

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The air was chilly for a late summer afternoon, but Harvestmistress Emilia attributed it to the northern winds blowing down the coast.  She methodically went about the church and began closing the shutters over the costly colored-glass windows.  The windows were very rare, and had been a gift to the church of the Earthmother by a wealthy patron, no doubt seeking to assuage a guilty conscience.  There were four in all, each one depicting a season of the year in vivid color.   She knew a storm was brewing, having lived near the sea for most of her life, and so she decided to secure the windows while she had the chance.  Once the "northerner" hit, there would be more than enough to do, rounding up the children, lighting candles and torches, cooking the evening meal, and generally maintaining order during a storm of notorious fury.  A year ago things had been easier, but that was before the old priest, Harvestmaster Gwain had succumbed to the rigors of age.  Now there was just her, the younger priest, a Trueseed named Jael, and a very young "close one", called Lana, who acted, more often than not, like another child, rather than the budding priestess that she was.  There were just the three of them to tend to the church, the parishioners, and the dozen children they looked after…orphans all…mostly due to the storms that swept up the coast and killed their fisher-folk parents, or the pirates that raided their farmer parents.  Emilia expected that at least half of them would be gone by winter…adopted by childless families, or folk who'd lost their own children to the same predators to whom the orphans had lost their families. 

            Emilia had just barely finished up with the windows when Priest Jael returned with the children.  They'd been out working in the fields earlier in the day, Jael teaching the children more about the ways of the Earthmother with hands on experience.  The children did seem to enjoy the idea of a goddess who encouraged them to "play" in the dirt.  Emilia quickly became immersed in the task of washing and feeding the 12 orphans.  

They'd just sat down to eat when the storm hit.  It seemed as though it were calm one moment, and then a near-solid wall of wind and water rocked the small church.  The younger children, of course, erupted into gales of screams and tears to match the weather.  It took nearly an hour for the older children and the three adults to calm them back down and finish the meal.  After dinner, Emilia went around the church, lighting torches and candles, while Jael and Lana tried to lull the children to sleep with one of the duller stories of the Earthmother's religion.  Emilia just finished with the candles over the altar to the Earthmother, when something strange happened.  She looked over to the windowsill where the spring scene window was.  The shutter on one side of the window opened with a deafening *slam*!  Emilia practically jumped right out of her robes.  She was trying to decide whether of not to brave the tempest and try to refasten the shutter again, when she saw a tiny shoot of green appear on the stone sill.  Within a matter of seconds, it grew, and bloomed into a delicate red rose, with pale white at the tips of the petals…A sign from the Earthmother, Emilia immediately recognized it…but she could not discern the meaning of the message…she'd not asked a question, or for any help…and she did not think that she'd done anything extraordinary today to either please or upset her goddess…so why?  Then, all of a sudden, the rose, so healthy for that moment, withered and began to die…then vanished entirely.

"What are you trying to tell me, Earthmother?"  Emilia fell to her knees in sudden prayer.  The shutter banged against the wall again, as though thrown open by an angered hand…no not angered, Emilia realized.  It was a warning.  Hurry…hurryhurryhurry…the shutter beat out a tempo against the stone walls.  Emilia paused.  She'd been thinking of going outside to see to the shutter, and the flower had appeared…when she'd stopped, the flower had vanished.  

"I must go outside, then?"  Emilia asked.  Almost as in reply, there came a wail, rising for a moment above the sound of the northerner…an unearthly scream that hurt her ears and soul, both.  It faded away with a crash of thunder.  Emilia ran to fetch her mantle, and a torch that would not go out no matter how wet the rain, or swift the wind.  Jael looked startled at her sudden entrance and flurry of motion, for Emilia was not a woman given to quick movements.

"Where are you going Em?" he asked.  Her reply was breathless as she rushed…hurryhurryhurry sounded the shutter.

"I must go outside…received a sign from the Earthmother…must hurry!"  Jael nodded, never doubting her words, as he helped her into her mantle.  Emilia went to side door, and wrenched it open.

"Wait here, and hold the door," she said to Jael.  He nodded, and held tight, for the wind was strong, but so, too, was he.  Emilia went out…the wind whipped her hair into her face, each strand hitting her face was like a tiny, stinging whip.  The rain nearly blinded her; the sky was midnight-black with heavy clouds.  She ran to the shutter, and rebolted it.  :Was that all?: she wondered.  She turned back the way she'd came, when her eyes caught hold of a splash of red down by the water where there should not be any red. She ran down the hill the church sat on and to the beach.  The waves were very high, and hardly any of the sand could be seen.  A flash of lightning illuminated the area, and she saw again the color red beside a large piece of wood.  Emilia dashed down to the water, her robes and mantle both soaked through.  Finally she made it to the shoreline, and to the mysterious form.  Lightning flashed again. A person!  So small, and with a mass of red cloth…no it was hair covering the form…not just a person…a child, Emilia realized.  Without any hesitation, she scooped up the small one, and backed away from the water.  She looked back only once, just in time to see lightning strike the spot where the child had lain.  

Emilia was not very old, or weak, but she was gasping for breath by the time she made it back up the hill, fighting the wind for every step.  Jael was waiting, and managed to wrestle the down shut, once she'd entered.  

"Quickly!  Blankets, Jael!"  She ordered.  He ran off to find some.  She noticed eyes watching her from the doorway.

"Time for bed…Lana take the children to their rooms."  The wide-eyed priestess complied, hustling the children off to the back of the church.  Emilia quickly made her way to the kitchen, which was usually the warmest of the rooms in the temple.  She lay her "foundling" down on the table.  The child was around 5 or 6 years of age, Emilia judged, and rather thin.  The red hair was long, reaching halfway down the child's back.  The skin was deathly pale, bluish-hued around the lips.  

"Am I too late?" she asked the empty room.  Her hand hovered over the mouth, searching for a sign of life.  There was breath…faint, and rattling in the child's chest.  Suddenly, the body coughed…water spilled from the mouth.  Emilia turned the child on its side.  After several long minutes, the poor thing had managed to cough up what seemed a gallon of seawater and sand.  Emilia checked the little one over for wounds…and found one.  It was on the temple of the child's head…a deep, jagged gash…bleeding freely…the crimson liquid matching the hair it spilled into, perfectly.  It was uneven and vicious…a death wound for some…Emilia thought she saw a flash of white in the blood…of bone?  But the child was still alive, still breathing…so Emilia could not abandon hope.  Jael returned then, not only with blankets, but…bless him…with healing herbs, a needle and thread, and other various healing accoutrements.  

" I thought we might need these," he stated as he set everything down.  Jael was a natural healer; his abilities and his god-granted spells made him one of the best there was in this part of the island.  So Emilia was not heartened when he blanched at the sight of the wound.  All the same, he did not hesitate in his duty.

"We'll need to clean that out with hot water and herbs…mustn't have anything in there when we sew it up."

"Should we not just pray for a healing spell?" Emilia asked, thinking it would be quicker.

"We could, but if it isn't cleaned properly, infection could set it.  It is best to be thorough now, rather than worry how to fix the carelessness later," he replied with a shake of his head.  Emilia left the judgments to him, knowing his healing knowledge was vastly greater than hers, for all that she was older, and higher up in the religious order.

Together, the gently cleaned the wound, and stitched it together.  The scar would be ragged, and unsightly, but easily hidden by hair…assuming the child lived.  They washed the child…a girl; they realized when they removed the tattered remains of clothing from her body…removing the worst of the sea salt and sand. The clothing gave no clue as to who she was or where she'd come from.  It was clear, though, that she was most likely not from the Moonshaes… her skin was far too pale to be of the Ffolk, or even the Northlanders…and her hair was of a shade that Emilia had never seen on anyone from the islands.  No…the girl was probably from the mainlands…on a boat that had gone done in the suddenness of the storm, perhaps.  They would look for bodies and wreckage tomorrow.  There was only one salvageable item…a talisman.  It was silver, on a leather cord, with two symbols engraved on it.  On one side, there was a symbol of a simple harp, while the other side depicted the rising sun, with rays beaming out from it.  The cord was tightly tangled in the child's fist and fingers, nearly cutting off blood flow in some places.  They unwound it and set it aside to examine later.  With voices twinned by chanting the same spell, they called upon the power of the Earthmother to heal the child.  The wound on the girl's temple slowly knitted together, the flesh growing back at a faster-than-normal rate.  When the spell finished its course, the wound was much improved.  But to Emilia's dismay, it was not fully healed…and considering the power of the spell they'd used, it should have been. Either the wound was much worse than either she or Jael had assumed, or there had been other…internal injuries that had also had to be healed.  They had done what they could this night, though…too much magical healing could be nearly as bad as the original wound for a body, Emilia knew.  They covered the wound with a packet of healing herbs, and wrapped it with clean cloth.  They then dressed the girl in a clean shift, and put her in a bed in the church's "sick" room.  Having done what they could, Emilia went to rest, while Jael took the first "watch."

By morning's light, the little girl had worsened.  A high fever had set in, and their best efforts were doing little to drive it down.  The storm was over, and Jael and Emilia had sent Lana out with the children to check the condition of the fields, repairing what damage they found there.  The two elder priests took turns bathing their charge with cool water, forcing her to drink potent, herb-laced tea as often as they could.  During one of the lulls, Emilia went down to walk the shores of the beach.  Strangely enough, she found no other bodies, no sign of debris that would suggest a sunken ship.  But where, then, had the child come from?  She found nothing on the land or on the waves to suggest an answer to her question.  It would be a full ten-day before the child's fever subsided…before the wound began to heal true…and before she awoke.

I mostly remember the pain from that time of my life.  It was as though nothing existed in the world but pain.  I remember voices…they came and went…some were so familiar that I wanted to scream when they left…some were strange to me, but soothing…and there was always one voice…it was the only one whose words I could hear…it told me to forget…forget everything…I don't think I wanted to forget…I think maybe that I tried to fight…but the harder I fought the worse it got.  I must've given up, and given in, for when I woke up, I didn't remember anything about me…my name…who I'd been, where I'd come from, my people…nothing.  The first thing I saw was Harvestmistress Emilia's face…her skin was brown, and her hair was dark…I don't think I'd ever seen anyone like her before…I was frightened…but she smiled…and I thought that maybe I died…and maybe she was an angel.  It took me a long while to heal from the wound…physically that is.  I still haven't recovered mentally.  I had to learn things again…how to walk, how to eat, how to make my mouth make sounds to match the words in my head.  I don't think that I spoke the same language as "Lady" Emilia and the others…it took me a long time to puzzle out what they were saying.  Even to this day, I know another language in my mind…it's the one I think in, and I always have to translate all the other languages I know to that one.  When I'm alone, I even speak the language, but I never met anyone who understands it.  Maybe I'm crazy…well I'm pretty sure of that anyhow…maybe I made it up…but somehow, I don't think I did.

            Lady Emilia…I called her that…she seemed like the grandest of ladies to me, even though she dressed in plain brown and green robes, and wore her hair loose, and walked barefoot in the summer.  Besides, saying "Harvestmistress" was a long word, and I was a little kid.  Lady Emilia told me all about how she'd found me…on the beach in a storm.  She said it was summer when she found me, but the air was cold, and the land was bare when memories began to stay firm in my head, instead of sliding about, and away…all blurry like salt water in your eyes.  She was patience itself, and not just because she was a priestess.  When I had learned to walk again, she took me down to the beach, to see the water, and the sand.  I think that she didn't want me to be afraid of anything because of what had happened to me.  She would take her shoes off and walk in the surf, even though it was cold out, just so I would see that the water wasn't scary.  I think I loved her, even then, when I hardly knew her. 

 It was during one of those walks that I found a "thing."   I didn't have many things…only one, really.  One thing that was mine, and no one else's…I didn't even know what it was.  Lady Emilia said she found it in my hand…a silver pendant with two symbols, one on each side.  I asked her what the symbols meant, the harp and the sun, but she didn't know.  She said she'd never seen anything quite like them, though she claimed that since I was most likely from the mainland, they could be symbols from there.  Maybe someday I would leave the Moonshaes and find out what the two symbols meant.  I wore it around my neck, on a piece of leather, though…because it was _mine_.  So when I found the "thing," it was an important day for me.  Lady Emilia had been resting on the shore, and I was exploring the area.  I left no stone (as long as it was small) unturned, not tree stump unexamined.  I found it tangled in the roots where the dirt fell away to sand in a soft, low cliff.  I thought that it was a fisher's net at first, for it was woven and silvery… it wasn't.  Not a net, but rather, some sort of bag made of woven metal, still silvery, even though it had obviously been outside for a while.  I managed to get it open…my fingers still weren't good at opening complicated things at that point.  Inside there was a gleam of purple…so pure and shiny…I'd never seen anything like it…at least not in the few months since I'd been "born."  I say months, because I never have been able to remember when my birthday was, so I celebrate it…when I remember to…on the day that Lady Emilia pulled me out of the sea, wet, and bloody, and with a mind as empty as an baby's.  

It was a flute of some kind…thin, and straight, made of a delicate, translucent purple crystal.  Of course, I ran over and showed it to Lady Emilia …I didn't even trip once, which was a good thing, or I might've broken it. She marveled over it, for neither had she seen anything like it.  She showed me how to put it to me lips and coax a sound out of it…a decision I do believe that she rather regretted in the following months, for I was dead set on learning to play the thing properly, and there was no one around who could or would teach me.  She told me that since I had found it, and she knew of no one who owned anything like it, that it was mine, to keep for always…a present from the sea.  I always got an odd feeling when I played with the crystal flute…it was almost familiar to me…but I tried not to think on it too much…Lady Emilia said I should never try to force my past to return to me…that if I was meant to remember, it would happen in it's own time.  

I spent that whole winter driving the residents of the Earthmother's church batty with my caterwauling on the flute.  Once it was apparent that my coordination skills were of a satisfactory level, they would send me outside to play.  I would usually go down by the ocean, and try to mimic the birds I heard down there, except seagulls of course…and make up songs to match with the sounds of the ocean.  I suppose I was a rather odd kid…

Winter passed.  It was cold, and dreary, with no snow since we lived on the southern edge of the island, only a few hundred yards from the water.  I know about snow, even though I've never seen it…odd, huh?  Lady Emilia filled my days well enough, though.  She and Jael spent their time teaching the other kids, and myself how to read and write.  They told us all sorts of tales about the Earthmother, our goddess.  The Earthmother, apparently, was in charge of making things grow, the earth, and the crops, and such.  She was a nice goddess, judging from what they told us.  Jael told us of another god… apparently not all people in the Moonshaes were like the people who'd taken me in.  There were another people to the north, not-surprisingly, they were called Northlanders.  They came from an island called Ruathym long ago and had settled here. They were very barbaric and flew into terrible rages…or so Jael told us.  He said that Northlander's loved to kill and make war, in accordance with their god of war, Tempus.  I decided, without much prompting, that Tempus was scary, and the Earthmother was much better.  

They also spoke of things that had little to do with religion.  One of my favorite tales was that of the old king and queen, Tristan and Robyn, and how they defeated a great evil called, "Bhaal" and saved the Moonshaes from utter destruction, _and_ brought peace between the Ffolk and the Northlanders.  Of course the Northlanders still raid on the Ffolk occasionally, so I guess there's no such thing as total peace.  I decided that winter, that someday, I would go to Caer Callidyrr, where the royalty lived, and see it for myself…someday, when everything didn't seem so new and big to me.  

The only oddness that occurred during the cold months was the dream, and the beginning of the bruises. The dream was odd because I didn't have dreams like a regular person…I had _the_ dream.  It was always the same.  I would wake beside a pond…a smooth, calm pond that seemed to be dammed up at one end…as though the water once flowed away, but no longer. I would sit up, and look over the water.  The water was salty…I knew without tasting, or touching… and it was somehow important that I knew this.  Looking down, my reflection was clear as though I was looking into a mirror of silver…but there were strange imperfections.  My reflection didn't quite match me, somehow.  I knew this, even though I had never seen my own reflection since waking.  The eyes were a little smaller…the nose thinner.  My reflection would reach out for me, the mouth moving in silent words…even though I knew I was not speaking.  My hand reached out for my mirror self, but a heartbeat from touching, a huge fist would appear, and shatter the calm of the water…and far away, from the other side of the pond was the sound of someone crying.  I had the same dream, over and over…not just that winter, but throughout my entire life, to this very day.  The reflection changed a bit as I got older, more to match me, but different as it had always been.  I never told anyone about the dream…not even Lady Emilia.  Somehow…I wanted to keep it for myself.

The bruises were a different matter entirely.  Lady Emilia always assumed that the bruises were the result of my having very fair, delicate skin.  I knew differently, though.  The bruises would appear at any time…at first I thought it was because I would bump into something and not remember.  But that excuse grew old swiftly.  They would appear in front of my eyes, when I knew that I hadn't done anything.  Sometimes bruises, sometimes scrapes.  Once or twice I even wound up with a black eye…and there was no logical excuse for it.  Being a kid I took it in stride…bruises were a part of life.  By the time I was older, it was commonplace in my life, so I hardly thought about it.  Like the dream, I never voiced any of my suspicions.  It was a good thing, too, considering that my reputation among the villagers was bad enough to begin with, and didn't need any more help.  Still, they happen to this day, and occasionally I wonder why…but as with all of my life questions, I have no answer.  

Spring came, and with it planting.  We spent many days going out to farms and fields…helping with the planting, and praying along with Jael, and Lana , and Lady Emilia, as they blessed the fields to grow well.  I guess the Earthmother didn't much care for people clearing lots of land, but she was nice enough to help out with the stuff that was already cleared.  

I suppose it may seem odd, but by the summer, I still didn't have a name.  My real name never came back to me, nor did anything else from before I was "born."  Lady Emilia called me "little one." Jael called me "the bratling."  Lana preferred to avoid me…especially after I put a toad in her bed the night after she scolded me for some silly reason.  It didn't bother me too much at first… I had more important things to worry about...like learning to walk, and read, and playing flutes, and catching toads...hehehe.  But, eventually, I noticed that the others kids at the temples had names…and the village kids did, too. I heard some women with fat bellies talking about what they were going to name their babies, one day, and so I turned to my paragon of everything wise and worldly.

"Lady Emilia, " I asked.  "Why can't I have a name?"   I remember she looked shocked…maybe nobody had ever asked her that before.

"Who said you can't have a name, little one?" she asked.

"Well, no one…but I don't have one," I replied, truthfully.  I didn't bother to make up a tale for Lady Emilia…even at that early date; she always knew when I was fibbing.

"We were hoping some of your memories would come back by now, " she explained. "And we didn't want to confuse you with two names."

"So I can't have one until I remember my old one?" I asked, dismayed.

"Of course not!  You may have whatever name you want.  You are very lucky, in a way…most children do not get to choose their own name, and have to accept whatever their parents choose for them.  Even icky names like Emilia," she smiled, her eyes sparkling.  I think she was jesting…in retrospect, of course.

"You're name isn't horrible!" I protested, a staunch defender of my lady.  She laughed, not unkindly.

"Why thank you for the compliment, little one.  So, what name will you choose?"  I sighed.

"None.  Kids aren't s'posed to choose their own names.  Their moms do.  I don't have a mom…or even a dad…I think my parents must not of wanted me and pitched me in the ocean, 'cause of my awful hair." I tugged viciously at the offending locks.  

"Where did you get such an idea?!" Lady Emilia exclaimed.  "Of course your parents didn't throw you into the ocean!"  I didn't really think so either, but I'd been entertaining the idea since one of the girls at the church had presented it to me in a tone that held all the sweetness of rotten eggs and hissing snakes.

"Well, then my parents are dead, then.  Either way, I can't ever have them again, and I'm so dumb I can't even remember the name they gave me."  I pouted, and yanked at my hair again.  I have a tendency to abuse my poor braid when I'm upset.  I suppose I might've cried, but the ability to do so, along with my memories, was gone.  Even at my hardest moments…and there were a lot, I never cried.  I remember once I got the idea in my head to make myself cry.  After failing to make myself sad with awful thoughts, I tried the pain route.  I went into the kitchen and carved open my hand with a kitchen knife.  It hurt like all hells, and bled like crazy, but not one tear.  Naturally, my reasoning on that particular occasion eluded Lady Emilia.

            "You are not dumb. You're very smart…and your hair is beautiful…it reminds me of the red glass in the church windows."  Now that was a bit of a compliment, since I knew that Lady Emilia's favorite thing to look at was all that pretty glass.  So finally, I got around to asking what I'd wanted to the whole time.

"Um…maybe…maybe _you_ could give me a name.  I know you're not my mother or anything, but you saved me…so maybe it would be like the same thing," I didn't look up once…just in case she said no, so I could run away and not remember the look on her face.  She was quiet for a moment.  Thinking, I suppose…for a minute, I was almost afraid.  I finally did look up… she had a shocked expression…but happy too.  She named me Raine.  "Rain" because of the night she found me, and because I liked to play out in the rain, even though they were always telling me I'd catch my death of cold…and an "e" because I was special…much more so than regular rain… at least, that's what Lady Emilia told me.  

Lady Emilia taught me so many things…and I regret that I have forgotten so much.  She taught me to braid my hair that summer.  My hair, you see, was very long, even then.  A braid kept it from tangling, and out of my face.  I hardly think I've been without my braid since that first summer.  And I have bangs…white bangs, as opposed to my red hair…and lots of them.  I don't know why my bangs are white, and my hair is red.  I suppose I could've dyed them the same, but the idea never occurred to me when I was young, and doesn't really appeal to me now.  I use my bangs to hide three things…my eyes, my ears, and my scar.  In the case of the last one, it's because the scar isn't very pretty.  With the eyes and ears, it was different tale all together. 

 I figured out pretty quickly that I wasn't normal...not by any Moonshaen standard.  My skin is too fair, my hair too bright.  My eyes have an odd slant to them, and they're wide, and larger than normal folks' are…and the color, a bright sapphire blue, flecked with gold…odd.  I don't like people to ask about them, so the bangs, odd enough themselves, cover them up.  Then there's my ears.  They're about the right size…but not the right shape…not round, but ending in sharp, little, points.  My ears are very sensitive, and I hate to have them touched.  When the other kids noticed them, I got a lot of ear pulls.  To end that, I hid away temptation…once again using my hair, and the thick fringe of my bangs hid away my oddness.  So while I always looked a bit shaggy, and definitely "peasant-class," I at least looked human.  

Appearance aside, I was never much liked by the other kids…not at the church and not from the village.  Growing up, and my whole life, I've never really had any one I could call my "friend."   There was Lady Emilia, and Jael, and later there was Gull…but I never had any friends...never really wanted any, and I usually discouraged those who tried.  In retrospect, I think that maybe it was a defensive maneuver on my part…or maybe I was waiting for the prefect person…or maybe I'm just anti-social.

It was late summer when the first "attack" happened.  I'm not even certain what caused it…of course, I rarely do know.  I was down by the water, practicing my flute…I _was_ getting better no matter what anyone said.  I was looking out over the ocean, calm as a millpond that day, watching the boats of the fisher folk.  It hit me like an arrow from a giant's bow…a sharp shooting pain in my temple…and one at the base of my skull.  They arced up to meet somewhere in the middle of my head.  It was worst than anything I'd ever felt… even the time with my hand…even worse than all the times I fell learning to walk.  I lay still for just a moment…curled up on the sand.  My crystal flute wasn't in my hands anymore, for my hands were clutching my head.  I hoped it hadn't been broken.  I wanted to reach inside and rub away the pain.  I thought that if I lay very still, it would stop…but the longer I waited, the worse it got.  I couldn't even open my eyes, because every time I did, the pain intensified.  But even with all this pain…I didn't cry…I screamed.  The last thing I remember was the sound of voices…of the other kids running for help.

They told me later that they'd never heard screams like that before.  They said that people heard me screaming two villages away.  They said that the screams were sharp enough to hurt their ears, even from a distance. They said it wasn't natural.  Lady Emilia told them they were silly, that it was just because of the head wound.  But the "headache" had lasted for two days…so had the screaming for the most part.  And nothing had helped it.  Afterwards, I was as fine as I was before.  

That was the first time.  

The headaches would come on me with no rhyme or reason that I could discern.  They came without warning, and were almost completely incapacitating.  I heard it said that I would occasionally scream words, in a language that no one could understand.  Some people thought that I was possessed, and demanded that I be exorcised.  Lady Emilia and Jael, and Lana did so, but nothing happened, except that I was forced to waste an entire day inside!  The "attacks" didn't come very often, and some lasted only an hour or two, whereas some lasted days.  It effectively killed my chances of being adopted…no one wanted a screaming lunatic for a kid…and, I was obviously an outlander of some kind too…what with my "dreadful" hair.  I didn't mind much…not even the rumors, or the insults.  I developed the most irritating habit of turn their insults into compliments by deliberately misunderstanding the words.  Naturally that little…quirk…added to my reputation of being mad as a flying fish, but so long as I got to stay at the church, with Jael and Emilia, I was happy.   

The next few years went by a long blur.  My memories were never overly sharp…except for the truly vivid ones.  All the kids were adopted, and new ones took their places.  Lana eventually left, headed for a church of the Earthmother in a more civilized corner of Alaron, the island of the Moonshaes we lived on.  Lady Emilia said that Lana was not meant for life in the country…though I suppose that my antics towards her never did help much.  It wasn't that important for me, seeing as Lana and I had never gotten on well.  Nothing overly spectacular happened in all that time.  High Queen Alicia, and King Keane kept the peace of the queen's parents.  The Nelanther pirates were always a problem, raiding along the coast, but nothing any different than had been happening for hundreds of years in the Moonshaes.  The headaches were the worst of my problems, and that was minor at best.  

I eventually did teach myself how to plate the little crystal flute, fairly well.  For one "birthday," Lady Emilia and Jael…I think they were lovers by then, but it was hard to tell…bought me a special carved box to keep the flute in…so it wouldn't get broken.  I, of course was delighted by the present.  It was made of oak, and carved with the likeness of a cloud raining tiny butterflies, each one painted a bright color.  I stored my flute in it, when I wasn't using it, and any other treasures I found.  

One winter, we had a bard stay with us.  He was a talkative fellow from the isle of Gwenneth, and he regaled us with tales of the royal court and the other islands.  He spoke of new gods, from beyond the Moonshaes, and spoke of a grand city on the mainland, to the east, called Waterdeep.  He played a harp, and that attracted me.  To amuse…himself, more than me, I guess…he taught me the basics of playing it.  I thought, at the time, that with my love of music, that I might someday become a bard.  I was wrong, of course.

I was probably around twelve when my life changed forever…again.  I say around twelve, for I don't really know how old I am.  It was the fall, during harvest time, and there was a great deal of work to do.  All the same, I knew that it was Lady Emilia's birthday sometime around the end of the harvest, and I was determined to give her a nice present, since she'd bought me a small harp…plain, but very expensive, considering all the mouths she had to feed, and the usual lack of donations.  So I'd managed to sneak away, one afternoon, to the woods.  There was a stream running through it, and at one spot, the bank was low, and there were lots of river stones.  I'd spent the last few weeks going there, painstakingly searching out the prettiest, brightest, most colorful, or unusual stones I could find.  I only had a few more to go. Then I would take them all down to the village.  There was a man there who'd agreed to pierce holes through each stone and make them into beads for a necklace.  It wouldn't be anything fancy, but I knew that Lady Emilia would like it, for she always claimed that she liked the best the things that I made myself.  It was late afternoon when I finished, putting all the stones away in my belt pouch.  I was walking back to the church, when I caught the first whiff of smoke.  It was strong, and acrid…and it did not smell like the usual wood fires…it smelled awful…like burning meat.  All the same, I didn't think too much of it until I got to the village…and saw the fires.  The fields were smoldering…it was dry out, so it would've only taken a few minutes for them to go up.  The houses were on fire too.  Dread is a feeling I am now familiar with, but that day, it was new to me.  I wanted to run down to the village, to the church, and see if everyone was all right…maybe it was just an accident.  But inside my heart, I knew it was not, and so I was slow, and stealthy as I crept down.  I ran into the first bodies at the edge of the field.  They were charred and burned, but I could tell that they'd been dead before the fires were lit. The villagers were dead…all who were left.  Most of the younger adults, and children…especially the girls were gone.  I wasn't foolish enough to think they were hiding somewhere.  Most of those dead had obviously suffered…been tortured before they'd been killed.  Not surprisingly, the burning homes had been emptied of value before set ablaze.  

Now I did run, in a blind panic, up the hill road, to the church.  I whispered prayers under my breath to the Earthmother.

"…pleasedon'tletthembehurtpleaseletthembealive…" I hoped that maybe the pirates…for I knew it had to be the Nelanther pirates, the only creatures I knew of capable of such brutality…had missed the church.  But as I reached the top of the hill, I knew they had not. The roof of the church had burned away, but even the pirates could not destroy the stone walls.  The beautiful colored glass windows were shattered…ruined…Lady Emilia's windows…I knew I was breathing hard.  I ran up to the front door.  There were bodies there…only a few…but I knew who would be among them.  I found Jael first.  There was a broken quarterstaff beside him.  I knew that it must have been desperate for him to fight, for Jael had always been of a peaceable nature.  He'd been run through…several times, his throat cut.  But at least he's died relatively quickly.  Lady Emilia was closer to the church.  I guess they hadn't wanted her for a slave, like the others, because she was older.  Her robes were ruined, torn to pieces.  The lower half of her body was covered in blood…her wrists and hands were broken.  My mind blocked out the idea of how they must of killed her…no one should've done _that_ to her.  I knelt beside her, my knees were instantly soaked in blood.  I touched her face gently, and to my shock, she was still alive.  She opened her eyes, and looked up at me.  She smiled, weakly.

"Oh…my little…Raine…you…got away…love…you…" She let out the last bit of air.  I waited a long time, but she never drew another.

I didn't cry…my heart was breaking, shattering like the pretty glass windows…I had a feeling it was not the first time I had been thus wounded.  It was the second family I'd lost…the first to the sea, the second to the sea's raiders …I really wanted to cry, but nothing would come.  

It took me a long time to bury them all.  Especially Jael and Lady Emilia, for them, I cleaned and dressed in what clothing the pirates had left.  I wanted to make them coffins, but hadn't the skill or strength.  So instead I gathered up all the glass, and laid the pieces over them, so that they would have something pretty with them…all but one piece, a petal of the rose that had been on the spring panel…the one that Lady Emilia had said was the color of my hair.  That I put in my box…the pirates hadn't taken it…not worth anything, I suppose…and it had been well hidden.  I gave Lady Emilia the stones, put them in her ruined hands, and apologized for not making them into a necklace, like I'd wanted.  I apologized for not being there, even though I knew, that she was glad I had not been.  It was foolish of me to think I would've made a difference where so many grown-ups had not.  But all the same, I hated myself for failing them…that day, and many after.  The grief had lessened with time, but even writing this causes it to burn within me.

It took three days, but I laid them all to rest, in the arms of the Earthmother.  I said prayers over them, hoping the goddess would accept them, even though I was by no means a priestess.  When I was done, I gathered up my things…some scavenged clothing…my box and it's contents…my harp, which only had a few broken strings, and a bit of food.  I promised myself I would not look back…but I did, just once. Then I left, following the roads, as the bard had once told me, to Caer Callidyrr.

I reached Caer Callidyrr, hungry, and tired, days later.  It was a port city, with a huge castle built above it.  The castle was where the King and Queen lived.  I first sought out the church to the Earthmother…they were sympathetic to my plight, but could do little more than give me a meal, and send me on my way.  I tried to find work, but I soon learned that I was "too small" and "too young" for any of the heavy, physical work.  My writing wasn't good enough nor was my reading, for any of the more scholarly tasks.  I tried to play my harp and flute for money, but there were many bards, from all over the Moonshaes, and even the mainlands, who were much better, knew more songs.  No one seemed to want an apprentice, for I hadn't the fees to pay.  After a few weeks, I'd lost a great deal of weight from lack of food.  I smelled awful, and had nowhere to sleep.  I knew I could sell my few things, the flute, the harp, the talisman, the box…but I couldn't bear to part with my few memories.  In desperation, I took up with a small band of thieves...children, like myself, who existed by "re-appropriating" the wealth of rich people in town.  I picked up the knack for stealing quickly, for I was rather small and had a light touch.  I learned early on to conceal my telltale hair.  I told myself, for a while, that it would just be until I could get a legal job…but as time wore on, I rebelled.  No one wanted me…there were so many poor people in the city, and so many rich people…why shouldn't the rich people share a bit?  Lady Emilia once told me that "we do what we must to survive."  I did what I had to…then did what I wanted to.  I suppose I fancied myself a bit of a "hero."  Maybe I still do in some respects.  I took what I needed, and gave what I didn't away to those whom I though did.  Needless to say, my "gang" wasn't happy with my chivalric tendencies, and booted me out.  Fine!  I didn't need them.  I began to work the streets on my own.  I did well enough, until one day; I managed to pick the pocket of another thief.  

His name was Alaric the Gull.  I came to understand that he was called "the Gull" for the dual misfortunes of his raspy voice, and his hooked, beak of a  nose.  He was impressed by skills, and offered to teach me.  By that point, I was desperate for any kind of normal human contact, and agreed quickly enough.  So began my "apprenticeship."  

Alaric wasn't his real name, naturally.  

            "People like us should never use our real names," he informed me.  There was a hint of regret in his eyes as he added, 

            "…For if we are caught, the ones we love may suffer for our deeds, no matter that we are in the right."  I was quick enough to gather that he'd suffered some similar misfortune.  I assured him that Raine was my name, but that I'd no one left to worry about.  He gave me a pat on the head.  We were kindred souls.

            The Gull treated me much like a younger sister, I suppose…or a daughter.  He taught me all sorts of things…how to fight with a dagger, how to fight with a sword…how to shoot a bow, and how to shoot a crossbow.  I learned to fight dirty, and fair…how to kill quickly, and how to incapacitate.  He warned me, though, to always kill my enemies, so that they would not return to wreak havoc later.  No mercy for the wicked.  I agreed wholeheartedly.  He showed me how to hide, and how to be silent as I walked…I already knew of lifting purses, but he taught a few techniques I hadn't thought of yet.  And as I got older, he showed me how to open locks…how to take the thieving to the merchants', and nobles' homes, instead of waiting for the purses to come to me.  We were a great team.  He had a wry sense of a humor, and a "rob from the rich, and help out the poor" mentality, like myself.  He made me smile again.  

            "But don't forget about yourself, too," he reminded me, often.  "Some day," he would say, "when you are rich, you must let little thieves pick your pockets…for some need to feel to earn the money, rather than receive it as a gift".

            All went well, till the first headache hit.  I thought it would be over, then.  The last thing a thief needed was a partner who screamed like a tavern wench being murdered.  But when I woke from the sleep of the attack, he was there, with me.  His eyes belied his concern, but just for a moment.  

            "Well, my little banshee, I must be certain to keep some scrolls of silence about for the next time."  

            The Gull took me to a church, to have my head checked out, despite my protestations that it would come to naught.  As predicted, the priests could do nothing for a problem, that they could not identify the cause.  I knew well enough that it came from my two wounds…the one from the storm of my birth, and one from the back of my head.  Lady Emilia had never known of the second one…a strange scar at the base of my skull.  It must have come from before I was born, for it was always there.  Of course, I had no idea what it'd come from.

            Gull wasn't overly satisfied with the answer, but had no other recourse.  I assured him that I was used to the "attacks."  He replied that I shouldn't have to be.  From that day on, though, he called me "the Banshee."  I asked what it meant, and he told me the legend…of how, sometimes, when elves die, they come back as undead creatures, called banshees.  He explained that the trademark of the banshee was their screams…an unearthly wail that could kill if you were close enough…also said to be a portent of doom for those who hear it.  I thought it was intriguing, and didn't protest the name.  I asked him more about elves, for I'd heard little of such creatures…and certainly never seen one.  He seemed surprised at my statement.  When I asked why, he replied that I was clearly of elven blood.  It was my turn to be shocked.  He explained that my eyes and ears gave away my heritage…that I, like him, had an elf in my past.  He looked even more human than me, though, so I asked for an explanation.  He pulled back his shaggy brown hair, to reveal his ears…at first glance they were rounded as any humans, but then I noticed the scarring along the edges.

            "I came from a place where it was better to hide such heritage, than announce it.  My ears were once pointed, as yours are now, but a "kindly soul" removed the problems for me."  His dark eyes were cynical and his mouth twisted with his sarcasm.  I learned that he was from the mainland, that his mother had been half-elven…but nothing more than that.  

            "Keep your past hidden," he told me.  "You are safer that way."  It was the only explanation I ever received…and some how I was reminded of and old vow… a vow to forget…then it was gone again.  

            I was happy with Gull, and my new lifestyle…as different from my old as I could get.  It wasn't always perfect though, for living on the streets was hard, no matter how easy it seemed.

            I was fifteen or so, when I lost my virginity.  I suppose in the long run, it wasn't so bad a thing…or even that important…but I had hoped I would at least get a choice in the matter.  I didn't, of course.  Gull was laying low somewhere, after a particularly high profile burglary of one of the richer noble houses, so I was on my own for a bit.  I suppose I was being careless, for I'd not hidden my hair.  Two Northlanders caught me, no doubt thinking I was a whore...for it seemed that "red" and "whore" were synonymous in certain parts of town.  I was fast, but they surprised me before I could get to my daggers.  They were stronger.  They must've knocked me out, for I remember nothing until awaking to a sharp pain between my legs.  I was in a room, somewhere…on a bed.  I smelled the heavy aroma of ale and liquor on their breaths…drunk as fish, they ignored my protests.  One held me down, while the first used my body, thrusting into me with all the finesse of an animal.  I stopped struggling after a few moments.  The damage was done, and the more I fought the more it seemed to hurt.  After a bit, the first one finished, shuddered, and grunted, and spilled his seed inside me.  They switched places, and the second one took his turn. The second time wasn't as bad as the first...at least it didn't hurt as much.  The whole affair was messy, and painful…I felt foolish for getting caught…by northlanders, none-the-less!   So I bided my time…waited until they were through, and had fallen into a drunken stupor.  I gathered up my things, and at first, thought only to run.  Then, I thought better of it. Why should they get away with their misdeed?  First, I robbed them of everything worthwhile…weapons, money, everything.  Then I got rid of their clothing and bed sheets and anything they could use to cover up with.  Then, I went to work.  

            Gull, you see had been teaching me about tattooing, after I'd commented on his many inkings.  I wasn't very good yet, but my skills were adequate for what I had in mind.  A needle, black ink, and little time was all it took…they were so drunk they never awoke.  I laughed to think of it:  when they awoke…no woman would ever willingly bed with either of them…not with word "rapist" tattooed across their heads…both "heads."  I knew I shouldn't leave enemies alive, but just this once…

            I made my way out…I was in a rather slummy part of town, in a cheap inn.  I made my way back to where I'd been staying…It was very late.  Gull showed up, just as I was about to take a bath.  He knew right away what had happened…but he said nothing.  He must've felt bad, but he didn't blame himself for not protecting me.  I didn't blame him for not being there.  There was no point, for, as I said, the deed was done.  He left without a word…I wondered if he was gone for good, as disgusted as I was about my carelessness.  I took a bath, and scrubbed myself clean…until the smell of them was gone from my body.  Gull returned a bit later, with small pouch.  

            "Take a pinch of this and swallow it."

            "Why?" I asked.  I was tired, and sore, and not really in the mood for games.

            "It will keep the seed from taking root inside you."  I looked at it, and then shook my head.

            "No, thanks.  I haven't had my…time yet, anyhow…so I should be fine…but if that's what the Earthmother wills, then so be it."  Gull growled at my response, and stalked the room like an irritated cat.  

            "That is a foolish answer.  If your Earthmother hadn't wanted the herb to be used, she wouldn't have created it."

            "All the same…" He growled again…raspy, like a bird trying to growl.

            "New training, starting tomorrow…afternoon," he gave her a reprieve, after giving her a quick once over.  "Don't be late."  He left, then...but not before I saw the sorrow and rage he was trying to hide in his eyes.  I didn't let on that I saw it... let him keep his illusions.

            The next day he began to teach me how to defend myself against male attackers with certain…acts on their minds.  With a bit of instruction, I learned how to use my body as a weapon, when I had no other weapons.  Fists, feet, and even my hair…Gull even showed me how I could use my long rope-like braid as a garrote if the situation called for it.  Eventually the story got around about the fate of the two northlanders…he laughed when he heard…I knew he was proud of me, for I'd given as "bad" as I'd gotten.  All the same…the two northlanders turned up dead by the docks a few days later.  I had my suspicions.

            Now, one would think that being raped would have turned me away from men completely.  True enough, I avoided everyone with a dangly part between their legs, except for Gull for about a year.  During that year, Gull gave me my first tattoo, a braided designs, in blue and green and red and purple, around my arm.  It had hurt like a bitch, but the end result was so pretty…something that no one could ever take away from me…I loved it.  I gave myself a few, practicing what Gull taught…similar designs on my ankles, and a butterfly, like the ones on Lady Emilia's box on my hip.  

It was during that year that "things" began to grow…I grew taller, my hair grew longer, my breasts grew from almost flat, to fairly large and uncomfortable in a matter of months, and small, red hairs grew in rather odd spots on my body.  My time started…a miserable bloody occurrence, once a month.  Lady Emilia had always told me it was a "_specia_l" moment in a girl's life…it was special all right...e_special_ly inconvenient and e_specia_lly annoying.  It was about that time that I began to look at men again…in a new light. 

My first real lover was a blacksmith's son…a large dark-haired boy about my age.  He knew a bit more than I did, and was all too happy to share his experience with me.  He showed me that sex could be fun…and very good when done right.   It didn't stop there, though.  Whenever Gull was away, or I had free time that wasn't being used for "money-collecting purposes", I was… "learning."  I can't even remember them all anymore…as a whole, they were human, but humans of every calling and station in life.  They were of varying ages, but all were rather good looking…or at least had "other" skills to recommend them.  

Merchants…nobles…farmers…blacksmiths…sailors…ffolk… northlanders…out-landers…I was like a magpie for men…anyone that caught my attention.  I eventually did take Gull up on his powder…but for the men to take, not me.  There was a similar powder for men to take that would keep them from "ruining" me…none of them seemed to mind my little stipulation, so long as it got them where they wanted to go…but I never forced them to take it…they always agreed on their own.  I refused to take the drug…just in case the effects would one day prove to be permanent.  Besides, I never did believe in messing with destiny…if that was what the Earthmother willed for me, than so be it.  Still, I hoped that someday, I would find someone I could love enough to stay with…I wouldn't be able to give him my virginity…dead and buried that it was…but I figured that at least I could give him a kid or two that would be all his.  And it's not that I didn't like kids, or even that I didn't want one…I just didn't want one while I was sixteen, with my whole life in front of me.

            Needless to say, then next two years were interesting.  I picked up a few more new skills…besides the ones I learned on my back!  I met a girl from a place called Calimport.  She claimed that the city was in a desert…a place where no plants grow.  I could hardly believe that such a place existed.  Anyhow, she taught me to dance…and I don't mean dance, like the snobby nobles from the court, with their waltzes and such.  She taught me how to _dance_!  It usually involved a great deal of semi-transparent scarves, and the rather…um …seductive removal of them.  She taught me how to dance with my daggers, as well, a terrifying, exciting rush of twirls with blades edges coming within inches of my skin.  I suppose I don't have to say that my dancing was certainly well accepted by my male… "friends."  

            I think that what I liked the most…besides the pleasure…was the power I felt.  I could make most men do what I wished, with hardly any effort.  I never abused that power, but just to feel it, and know it was there was enough.  It gave me a sense of control that I usual lacked, due to the turmoil in my life.

            Nothing lasts forever…especially not with me.  When I was eighteen, I learned the true nature of my "curse."  Yes, curse…for I am indeed cursed, and it is a terrible one…for me and most especially for those I love.

            Gull told me, one day, that he had to leave Caer Callidyrr for a while.  I begged to go with him, but he told me that it was better if I stayed.  All was fine enough for a few days, even despite my pouting.  Then, on the fourth night that Gull was gone, I felt a terrible sense of urgency.  I don't know why, or where it came from, only that I had to "_go_."  I grabbed up my things, and left…out the city and back the way I'd come from…the way Gull had gone.  

            It was near to an hour later when I found Gull.  He way lying by the edge of the road, not far from a smoldering fire.  There were signs of a struggle…a battle.  His short sword lay nearby, snapped in two.  I knelt beside him, in the moon-bright darkness.  

            "Gull!  Gull?…Alaric?!"  He awoke at my shaking him.  He seemed a bit dazed, but not harmed.  My heart slowed a bit from its racing pace.

            "Banshee?  What're ye doin' here?"  His words were slurred from their usual clipped sound.  He coughed...hard.  Wetness hit my arm, and I saw what was so wrong.  His blood was like a whore's paint on his lips…coming up, no doubt from some horrible wound within.   

            "Oh, goddess…you're hurt!" I exclaimed…stupidly.  I tired to tug him up.

            "Come…quickly now, I'll help you…we'll get you to a church…they'll make it better!"   He didn't rise, nor did he even try to.  He took hold of my shoulders, made me face him.

            "Lissen up, Banshee…'s mortal…" 

            "…nooo…" I protested.

            "Shh…don' have lotta time left…Don' know how ye foun' me…glad though…don' wan' be 'lone when I go…was giants…two…din' see 'em comin'…'member to keep good watches, Banshee…wan' you to go to Waterdeep…don' shake yer head a' me girl…yer meant fer better'n these islands…ye could be great someday…take m'money and stuff…take everythin', fer I won' need anythin' when 'm dead…remember tha'…the dead don' need things...we get what we need in th' beyond…go t' Waterdeep…but don' tell no one ye knew me…'s not safe…got…enemies…hurt ye…know that ye knew me…'s dark ta'night…Banshee…look!…'s m' wife…Rissa…yer the girl me'n Rissa never had…luv…"  The rest of his words cut off as blood spilled out from his mouth, a fountain of death.  He struggled for another breath, but could not draw it.  I watched, numb, as he drowned in his own blood.   

            I had no one to curse…so I cursed Tempus…and death who rode at his side, a constant companion.  I could not cry…so I screamed…It was the scream of my headaches, coming from my throat in my lucid, waking hours.  The scream of a banshee.  In the depths of my despair, I realized the truth that I'd missed…that everyone around me had missed.  I was not possessed…I was cursed.  I was eighteen…six years with Gull.  When I was twelve, it was six years with Lady Emilia and Jael.  I was six…six years with my lost family.  My curse came in six year cycles.  I had six years…then those I loved would die.  Part of me wanted to know why.  What had I done to deserve this?  The Earthmother did not answer me, but though she held her silence hand in hand with my past…I could not turn from her.  Lady Emilia's teachings were still too strong in me.  But I realized at the moment that I must never rely on a god for anything…their whims were too fickle.  I grew silent after a while.  I reacted, but could not seem to manage to think.  I wanted vengeance.  I gathered up Gull's things…there wasn't much.  His bow was intact, and some arrows, so I took those.  The giants had taken everything else…I rose…and went to take it back.

            I'm no ranger, but I tracked them…hunted them with a single-minded fury.  Now even I know that hunting giants, with two daggers, and a dozen arrows is foolish, but I didn't see as how I had a choice.  I'd not had the chance to avenge the murders of my Lady Emilia, and my Jael…but by the hells…I would avenge my Gull.  I found them a while later…the moon was still high…full too.  They were around a fire.  Crude bandages patched them…Gull had apparently gotten a few hits in.  They were going through Gull's backpack...laughing.  Their natty red hair gleamed orange in the firelight.  

            The first arrow struck true, hitting one of the pair in the neck…not an instant kill, but a sure one if he didn't get help soon.  My next few shots weren't as good, and the one still functional traced their trajectory to where I was hiding.  No sense in being silent.  The sound rose in my throat as naturally as breathing. I jumped down the small incline, a let loose with an ear-piercing wail…steady and rising in its sharpness.  The giant clapped his meaty hands over his ears, and glanced about.  An echoing through the glade perhaps made it seem as though there were more than one of me.  I was happy to see that the …animal was frightened.  I slipped around him…sliced out his hamstring…then the tendon at his heel.  He stumbled and fell, fumbling for his weapon.  I slashed open his hands…stabbed at his neck.  He was badly wounded…by me and by Gull.  He rolled on his side.

            "Mercy!"  It shouted in the language of its kind.   I replied…in my head…my language…in Gull's words…

            _No mercy for the wicked._

I slit its throat…a fount of blood gushed over my hands…hot and coppery.  His fellow joined him in the hells a moment later. 

            I found it hard to believe I'd lived…even then.  A giant is no easy kill, and knights fall to them…but I had killed two.  It didn't seem enough.  I took back Gull's things…his backpack…his clothes, and coin.  There were no personal effects, for he had none.  There was mirror, though…tucked between two threadbare shirts in the bottom.  I'd never seen it before.  Had it been special to him?  Then I saw the engraving on the back…plain but simple, etched on the silver surface…_Raine the Banshee._  It had been a present…for me.  :Of course: I thought.  My birthday had been approaching.  I wanted to thrown it away…I didn't deserve it.  I had killed Gull by caring for him.  I must truly have done something terrible to be so cursed…and the worst part was that I can't, to this day, figure out what it was to try to make amends.

            I buried him there…beneath a tree on the side of the road.  I was tired of burying people.  In the morning, I returned to Caer Callidyrr.  The day wasn't out before I heard the rumors among the city folk…they said that a strange wailing was heard throughout the night…the wail of a banshee.  Some feared it was a portent of doom…that disaster was coming to the Moonshaes, that death was approaching for a member of the royal family.  A banshee, they whispered to me…I nodded, and smiled, for it was always best to smile when you are at your worst…it confuses those who would harm you, hides a weakness beneath false facade.  A banshee, they whispered, and I agreed…a banshee, indeed. 

            Gull hadn't had much money with him.  I didn't know if he'd hidden anything away, but if he had, I didn't bother to seek it out…let someone else find it.  There wasn't enough in his savings, and mine…pathetic as they were… to get a ship to the mainland.  So I put it away.  I would save up enough, and go, as he'd wanted.  There was nothing left to keep me in the Moonshaes anyhow…not even the Earthmother.  I did not turn from my goddess…but I confess, I was no longer anywhere near as devout as I once was.  I was beginning to lose faith…

            I don't remember too much of the two years that followed…just that there was steady supply of any beverage containing an alcoholic content.  I managed to save a bit, but anything extra went to the drink.  There were times I would wake up in places I didn't recognize, with people I had no memory of meeting.  I began to fear that my memory was failing again…that I would lose Lady Emilia, and Gull as I had lost my first family.  Fortunately, my friend "moonshine" kept my worries at bay with a rough "embrace."

            I do remember one morning…waking up to a vicious pain in my arm.  I was in an inn, on the island of Gwynneth, in the city of Caer Corwell, next to a naked, fair-haired outlander man, whom I could not remember for any trying.  On my arm, there was a tattoo…a masterpiece of color and pain.  It started at the tip of my middle finger, a spiraled up my arm to the shoulder.  Two intertwined threads of green and purple… the purple ink alone must've cost a fortune…but I found a full purse of gold beside me.   The outlander wasn't in much better condition, with a garish tattoo of a griffin across his chest, the tail of the griffin coiling down, and "curling" around a rather sensitive part of his anatomy.  It was nearly five days from the last day I could remember.  I managed to piece a bit together from the outlander, whose memory, even drunk, was not the block of holey cheese that mine was.  We'd met in a bar, and he'd admired my tattoos.  After a bet with a dwarf, which ended in him and myself consuming the better part of a shipment of dwarven ale from someplace on the mainland…I took him to a place to get a tattoo…too drunk to try it myself, apparently.  He couldn't remember much after that.  Some how we'd wound up here…he blushed prettily when I asked if we had…done the…uh…deed.  I wasn't dumb enough to think we hadn't, considering that if the man was cute enough, I was apt to allow him liberties…even when I'm sober.

            I made my way back to Alaron a day or so later.  It was difficult, but I managed to remain sober and avoid the bars for six months…long enough to get, not only coin enough, but a ride on ship to the mainland, willing to take me as a passenger…red-haired, and female that I am.   Unfortunately, it was headed only to a place called Baldur's Gate…a smaller city somewhat south of Waterdeep.  So, that summer, I bit farewell to the Moonshaes…my home for fourteen years. I said my good-byes to those I'd loved, wondering if they could hear me from the beyond.  I promised Gull that I would hold to my ideals…his ideals.  I promised Lady Emilia that I would try to become someone that she could be proud of…that all her teachings hadn't gone to waste in me.  And I made a promise to myself…I would be wary of my curse, and seek to find my redemption from it by helping those who could not help themselves…even if it meant risking my life to accomplish it.     I watched from the deck of the ship…kept my eyes on the misty shores until they faded from sight.  Then I turned to the east, and never looked back.    

            I started to write this journal while on board the ship to Baldur's Gate.  I still worry that I will someday lose my memories again…so I "borrowed" a black logbook from the ship's stores.  I began writing down everything I can recall from my early days, and I'm thinking that I might continue the trend.  Maybe, someday, it will be nice to look back and read the story of my life, as though it were a book.

            The sailors on the ship were nice enough fellows…they were fond of gambling, and I was fond of tricking them out of their money…though I confess I "lost" a great deal of it back to them.  I did win a sword from one…a cutlass that was much like the short sword that Gull had trained with me.  It fit nicely in my hand, and I liked the gentle curve of the thick blade.  I spent a good few hours with a few of the sailors, sparring with them, cutlass and dagger, for I'd always been able to use either hand with equal dexterity.  

            Baldur's Gate is a nice enough place, but small.  I saw many people of the races I'd only heard about…tiny halflings, bulbous-nosed gnomes…I'd seen dwarves before for there were clans of them on the Moonshaes.  I saw my first elf, as well.  She was a strange creature, with long, pointed ears, and indeed, eyes similar in shape as mine.  Much more delicate, and fair than most of the human women near her…the elf was not at all what I had expected, for the descriptions I'd heard of them while growing up had left me with a far different mental image.

            I found a ship to take me up to Waterdeep…it leaves within the week.

            On my way to Waterdeep…I found that my fellow passengers were intriguing in their diversity, their appearance.  I did not approach them, but watched from my place on the deck, where I found good sport, flirting with the sailors.  There is a half-orc fellow, with blue eyes and a line of spiky brown hair running down the middle of his otherwise bald head.  Despite his heritage, seemed an amiable enough fellow.  He helped out the deckhands, though never went too close to the edge without a large chunk of wood…he seems to be afraid of drowning.    

             A dwarven lass, short and stocky, with long auburn hair, a few shades darker, and a foot or two shorter than my own, calf-length braid, keeps mostly to herself, though I did see her speak with the half-orc a time or two.

            There is a taller young human, with immaculately groomed, shoulder length black hair and sky-blue eyes.  He's rather handsome, but for his manner, which belied him as some sort of nobleman.  He treated the crew like servants, and gave only the captain a modicum of respect.  I avoided him…time enough to pick fat pockets later, when there was good, solid ground beneath my feet.  Needless to say I was not overly happy about the whole sailing thing.

            There is a stooped over, dark skinned fellow, who was as bald as a hen's egg.  He seems rather shifty, and keeps to himself.

            Finally, a bouncy girl with platinum blond hair, green eyes, and an odd…glow about her skin ran about the ship…being generally bothersome to everyone.

            Two days, out, the sky is getting dark.  The captain came up to me and warned all the passengers to get below and batten down for a storm.  It's rather dark and smelly below…and I'd much rather be out in the storm, but I would probably be a hindrance.  So here I am.  Better stop now…the waves are really rough and it's getting hard to wri___

Dying if a funny thing…one minute, I'm trying to swim in the middle of a hurricane, after the hull of the boat was torn out from beneath me, doing my best impersonation of a fish…without the gills, though…and then very next I'm standing in some vast, open, gray space…Gull's "beyond," no doubt.  There were hundreds of people there with me…all milling about.  I recognized some of the people, passengers and crew from the boat.  No one seemed frightened even though it was obvious we were all dead.  Every few minutes a beautiful, unearthly creature would come down from…somewhere…and take a soul back with them.  Ironic that, even in death, people still have to wait before going on.  

            I wondered if one of the glowing people would take me away to…where ever followers of the Earthmother get to go, or would someone I know come for me, like Lady Emilia or Jael.  I thought that maybe I saw her approaching once, through the crowd, but before I could know for certain, some invisible force yanked me off my feet, and out of the gray place.  It seemed I'd only been there a few minutes.   A breath's span later, I awoke with a gasp, back in my mortal body, knowing that I'd not been dreaming…I had truly died, and someone in the living world had brought me back.  For a second I was angry…I had wanted to stay dead and be with the ones I'd loved in a place that they could not be taken from me again.  Thought and common sense prevailed.  I realized that they had all wanted me to live a whole life…Lady Emilia once told me that only those souls who are willing will come back to the call of a priest…So, in truth, I must've wanted to come back, or I would not _be_ back. So I sat up, and looked around, wanting to know at the very least _who_ had resurrected me.  I don't have the words to describe what it was like to be in my body again, after experiencing a few moments without it…the best I can manage, is that I felt heavier.  I looked around, and quickly realized that I was not alone, and that I had obviously been dead for more than a few minutes.  There were eleven others in the room with me…five I recognized as passengers from the ship.  Six were dead, still-smoking corpses.  They looked shriveled and crispy, as though all the fluid had evaporated from them in an instant.  There were gold medallions around their necks, one on each.  They'd probably been holy symbols at one time, but were now unrecognizable lumps…valuable only for the metal they were made of.  

            I felt a strange tingling on my arm, and looked down.  I had a new tattoo, it seemed…but there was something about it that was drastically wrong.  It was red, comprised of five symbols in a row running up the middle of my inner forearm.  The symbols seemed to glow, and twitch, as though they were alive.  The feeling was akin to having a wet caterpillar crawling on your skin… I was duly creeped out.  I could feel the powerful magic that had forged them, for what purpose, I could not comprehend.  I hated it on sight, and knew that I had to remove it…as soon as humanly possible.  

            I noticed that the others were all waking…took note of the other details of our shared surroundings.  We were each lying on a low stone altar, wearing the same clothing we'd been wearing when we'd died…though the clothes looked patched, and they were a bit worse for the wear.  At the foot of each altar were all our belongings…weapons, packs…everything.  I was glad to note that my harp, and box had not been ruined by the water…nor had the ink in this journal run, incidentally.  I quietly got up, and began to draw my few belongings back around me…sword to hip, daggers to boots…bow to back…you get the idea.  The others were all rising as well, and doing the same.  A few were quiet as they went about it, while the others, like the dwarf girl, were a bit more vocal in their questions, and ponderings.  Eventually, the more cordial of my fellow "revenants" introduced themselves. 

 The red-haired dwarf girl was Kedra Torunn from the Citadel Abdar, in the north.  I nodded, though I had no idea what she was talking about.  The half-orc fellow was Guar…he seemed rather confused about the whole affair, and Kedra had a bit of a time trying to explain it all to him, seeing as he was a bit on the slow side.  The third was the glowing, bouncy girl…naive as Guar, it seemed.  Her name was Sinyalla. Looking at her, I was somewhat reminded of the beautiful glowing people from the beyond.  The other two were quieter…I'm being nice by saying quiet, though, for in reality, they were downright rude.  His Lordship…I mean Durand Huntsilver, a true-blooded _noble, _from a land called Cormyr, practically sneered at us "peasants" when we dared to question his nearly divine personage.  The other one, dark skinned and bald, was Saldenon…I don't really know what to think about him…just that he's more than a little creepy, and seems to go out of his way to make himself frightening looking and sounding.  So know I knew the characters, but the plot in this mystery is still unrevealed.

            We decided to head up the stairs in the room, which seemed to be the only way out.  It was not a collective decision, seeing as everyone was a bit surly about being dead…especially about learning how long we'd been dead.  You see, in each of our piles of belongings, there was one new thing…a letter…or, more appropriately: an invitation.  It was for a Shieldmeet festival that was being held by a Lord Ilmeth of Battledale.  It was dated, and the year was 1372…we'd died in the year 1370.  Even I found it hard to believe that two years had passed, when it seemed only a few moments…but I suppose that time moves differently when you're dead. 

            The stairs came out in a ruined pile of stones that had once…a long time ago, mind you…been some sort of building.  There was no obvious road, or way out…just trees and forest, and a great deal of them. His Lordship took the initiative in the path.  Needless to say, with my attitude, and his, we were already not getting along.  He also seemed particularly miffed by my "robbing of the dead," as he put it, for I'd taken the melted gold medallions.  No sense in wasting.  He, being so very _noble_, and _honorable_, didn't see it that way, and I had no inclination to explain my reasoning to him.  Let him think what he would…it certainly wouldn't be the first time.  

            We traveled for a few hours, when we came upon a road.  There were a few travelers on it, who gladly explained that if we followed it, we would reach the town of Essembra, by the day's end.  We thanked them and continued.  There was a bit of a problem, when His Lordship tried to bribe a farmer into giving him a ride on his cart…apparently, he was too _good_ to walk with the rest of us.  The farmer wanted more than the one gold coin Durand was willing to pay, for the wagon was very full, and Durand's weight would have slowed him down.  So Durand sneered at the man, and threw the coin at him, muttering something unpleasant about "peasants."  I got a little miffed and chastened His Lordship for his uncouth actions.  All I received for my efforts was a similar insult, and a warning not to speak to him again.  _Fine_…if that was how His Lordship wanted to play…I was game.  I wasn't about to let some pampered, over-spoilt brat best me…not on any field.  I'd show him "_peasant_"…I'd cram it down his throat so far that his spawn would be born wearing homespun!  

            To pass the time, Guar asked if anyone could sing.  I told him that I could play some music, and he practically begged me to do so.  He seemed to like the flute well enough, even though I'm certainly no bard.  He was fascinated by the harp, and smiled hugely when I let him pluck the strings.  He seemed surprised at the noise it made.  He complimented my playing, even though I'm not that good.  He asked about my tattoos, seemed impressed when I told him that I did some myself.  I think I'll be getting a request for an inking from him eventually…

            We came upon a large manor, a while later, with a wall around it.  The doors were locked, and the house looked rather shabby…almost abandoned.  There were people, however, in the courtyard.  One of the guards at the gate explained that Lord Ilmeth's would be holding his Shieldmeet festival in the courtyard in a few days.  We explained that we had invitations, and he advised us to go to the inn in town, and occupy ourselves until Shieldmeet.  We also learned that the house behind the courtyard was rumored to be haunted…and full of the belongings of a rich noble who'd lived there.  That interested me…Guar and Kedra as well.  We asked if we might take a look around inside.  The guard responded with an expression that suggested he thought us mad.  He said that no one who'd ever gone in, be they thief…he looked towards me, I returned with a cheeky wink, and a grin…or knight, had ever come out.  I say they just weren't good enough.  All the same he would not let us in, but added, once again to return at Shieldmeet, and he just might look the other way if we went near the manor.  We dragged Guar away after that, for he seemed about to come to blows with the guard.  

            Just before dusk fell, we arrived at the town.  It was a fairly large sized place, and we found an inn quickly enough…a likely place named the White Stag.  The innkeeper wanted a gold a room for the night…two people to a room.  His Lordship "graciously" offered to pay for everyone, except for me, of course.  Since we'd decided that I would be sharing a room with Kedra, who claimed that she _did not_ snore, he wouldn't pay for her either.  Fortunately, Kedra was a fine figure of generosity and paid for both of us.  I thanked her, of course, still possessed of a few of the manners that my Lady had instilled in me.  

            It seemed that there was going to be a bard of some renown playing at the inn…a woman called Storm Silverhand.  So, with our dinner, we got to have some fine music.  Storm Silverhand was a rather exotic looking woman, with long silver hair…and very pretty, or so the expressions on the men of most of the room implied.  She had a harp with her of such beauty and masterwork, that I almost felt ashamed of my homely little harp, and hid it behind me, when Guar meant to point it out.  I love my harp, but not because it's beautiful.  The song Storm played was of some outlander history…but it was not the words, rather, the music and the way she sang that moved the listeners.  I noticed that many people in the audience seemed to be crying.  After the performance, His Lordship got up, and quickly hurried after Storm.  I had a few questions for the lady bard, and so I followed.  I caught up in time to hear Durand launch into small talk.  I didn't really have the patience for pleasantries at the moment, so I cut in on the conversation.  

            "If you don't mind, your Lordship, I need to ask the Lady here a few questions before you prattle on for the rest of the night."  Without waiting for an answer, I continued.

            "In my land, bards are far traveled, and often have much information…I assume the it is the same here.  I was wondering if, perhaps, in your travels, you might have seen anything to match the marks here."  I showed her my arm.  Durand muttered something about how he was about to ask her the same thing.  Too bad…you snooze, you lose.  She studied them for a moment, appearing puzzled.

            "Well, " she began in a cultured voice that put even His Lordship to shame.  "I recognize this one here."  She pointed to the clenched fist.  "This is a symbol of the dead god Bane."  She moved her finger to the last one.  "And this one is of the Eldureth Veluuthura…a rather secretive group of elves who are not…shall we say…fond of humans, and are often violent about showing their dislike.  But the others…I'm afraid I have not seen them before.  May I ask where you got them?"  I shrugged.

            "We woke up with them after being dead for two years.  My thanks for your information, Lady Storm," I added.  Then, leaving her with that little "gem," I headed back upstairs…not before picking the Lady's pocket.  If she was wealthy enough to afford a harp like that, and clothes such as she was wearing, she could afford to "lend" me a little.  I tucked the potion vial into my own pocket.  I'd try to find out what it was later.

The rest of the evening passed interestingly.  Everyone seemed inclined to bathe after eating.  I decided to wait until morning to give the poor innkeeper a break.  Sinyalla took one first, then Kedra proceeded to wash Guar, who was, I admit, filthy.  It was amusing to hear, for the half-orc kept complaining that the dwarf girl was scrubbing too hard, asking whether the soap was edible, and why he had to be clean, and to be careful, because that part was sensitive…I chuckled in my bed.  But I could not stay awake for the end; for I was rather tired…I guess being dead will do that to a body.  I was used to sleeping amidst all sorts of noise and such, so I fell asleep listening to Guar complain, and Kedra mothering him.

I had my dream again, though this time, my reflection looked a bit haggard, a bit relieved, but as usual, no matter how fast I was or how hard I tried, I could not touch the water in time, and thus could not regain whatever I'd lost that my reflection held.

The next morning was bright, and sunny.  Kedra, the very soul of kindness paid for breakfast for Guar and myself the next morning.  The food was good and filling, different from the usual fare I'd had in the Moonshaes.  About halfway through the meal, we heard the sound of someone hammering on the side of the inn.  Being of a curious nature, I went out with several of the others.  Someone had tacked up a piece of parchment.  On it, it read that Lord Ilmeth, obviously the same guy who was throwing the Shieldmeet bash, wanted some help in clearing out some kobolds and goblins.  

            Just then, there was a clap of thunder.  Instinctively, I looked up, expecting to see a brewing storm.  What I saw was far different.  High in the sky, and very far away, a scar seemed to open up.  It was unnatural, and wholly wrong feeling. Creatures of a monstrous nature began to pour out from the scar…horrible creatures reminding me of the stories that Jael would tell us of Bhaal and demons, to frighten us.  Lightning began to shoot from the scar, zapping the monsters, destroying them one by one.  The whole scene reeked on insanely powerful magic.  I walked back into the inn, seemingly calm.  I don't care much for magic that isn't of the godly variety.  There aren't a whole lot of wizards on the Moonshaes, and those that there are work for the king and queen.  So magic wasn't very common, and I'm not overly comfortable with it.  And magic on the level of that scar outside, and the tattoos made me a bit squeamish.  I figured that I would be safe enough inside…or at least oblivious if doom approached…yet again.

            It stopped after a few minutes, thankfully.  No one else in the group seemed to notice my lapse.  We agreed a while later, to go check out the goblin/kobold thing, since we had a few days to kill before Shieldmeet. Since there was a reward, and we were all a bit short on coin, it seemed like a good enough idea.  A citizen of the city pointed the way out to the Lord's house.  We arrived there, and, Durand, of course, demanded to see the Lord.  When the man at the door, fairly normal looking human fellow, wearing nice clothing, replied that _he_ was the Lord, Durand almost seemed a bit contrite at his rudeness…almost.  We got the details from the man about the two jobs.  The kobolds were apparently holed up in the basement of a ruined house in the forest just outside of town.  He sent a few people down there, but no one had come back.  The goblins were in a cave about half a day's walk from town, and once again, were causing trouble that no one had been able to resolve as of yet.  Lord Ilmeth claimed that he needed both jobs done before the festival, and would pay well for the deed to be done.  Then he asked what skills we had.  In my usual flippant tone, I replied,            

            "We all have swords and armor, and none of it too pretty…why ask what skills we have, if we're willing to do the job?  It's not like you'll lose anything if we fail.  Besides, we've got him," I pointed to Guar, who grinned, and hefted his weapon. Kedra and Durand, of course, went on for a bit about how they were such great warriors.  I think I might have yawned.  In the end, the Lord gave us directions to both places.

            We sat around for a bit, discussing which one we should do first, when his Lordship made another of his famous comments.

            "I know.  Why don't myself and the other _useful_ people go and deal with the goblins, while you, and that, " he gestured to Guar,  "go and take care of the goblins?  Perhaps you'll weaken them enough before you die, that it won't be much of a problem for us to come back and finish them off."  All delivered in a sarcastic sneering tone, covered with a thin veneer of politeness and gentility.  And they call me rude…I was almost ready to take on the challenge just to show the snot-nosed, little upstart that his little barbs didn't bother me…much.  Guar seemed confused.                                                          

"His Lordship doesn't like you because you're a half-orc, Guar, and he doesn't like me because I'm a "thief," and a peasant, and I see through his shit," I added the last with a deceptively sweet smile.  "But if that's what _Durand_ wants, then perhaps we should oblige him."  I said his name with a seductive tone, which I think irritated him even more than it would've had I said it like a curse.  Fortunately, before I was able to expound further on His Lordship's idiocy, Saldenon popped up, as the surprising voice of reason.  In his hissy voice, he said, 

            "Why don't we all go together, to the kobolds and then the goblins, and not split our strength."  He sounded a bit irritated.  Everyone agreed, even His Lordship, who looked a bit pouty that his attempt to rid himself of the "peasant," and the "barbarian," had failed.  

            Since we had the whole day, the kobolds, were only an hour away, we headed out.  As we approached the area where it was supposed to be, I stopped, and made the others do so as well.  

            "Hold on.  The Lord called this place a deathtrap.  A trap implies that we shouldn't charge in." I said.                        

            "So why don't you go check it out," Saldenon suggested.  I nodded, ignoring his blatant sarcastic voice.  I intended to drive him nuts by acting as though he was an actual nice person, and not the monster he was trying so very hard to be.  As I moved off, Sinyalla asked if she could come.

            "Only if you can be quiet," I said.  She nodded.  We got up to the edge of the overgrown path we were on, and peered out through the trees.  Near a dark hole in the foundation of a crumbled ruin of a house, there were five kobolds, chattering away to each other.  I got an idea, and gestured Sinyalla back.  About 15 feet in, I set a line trap across the path, between two trees, tight and well hidden.  The goblins wouldn't even see it.  Then we went back for the others.  I explained to them that I'd set a trap…that the kobolds would chase me, and trip over the line.  After that, the party could hack the off- balance kobolds to pieces.  They agreed with the plan and moved forward, hiding themselves in the woods along the path.   I ran up to piss off the kobolds.  With a cocky swagger, I stepped out onto the path, where they could see me.  I gave a whistle, grinned and waved.

            "Hey boys!  Your mother was a rat!"  They squeaked angrily and picked up their weapons, and, as predicted, came running.  I bolted back, and leapt over the trap.  It worked well; the first one went down heavily.  The party was on them in a second, and a few moments later, all five were no longer counted among the living.  

            We went up to the entrance, and Sinyalla promptly headed down into the darkness.  I was going to warn her to be wary of traps, but she found that out soon enough, as she bolted back up, with and "eep" and a blossoming bruise on her face.  The trap was, apparently, of the living variety, though, for there was a low growl from within.  Like lemmings, most of the party charged down the stairs to attack.  I followed at a slightly more leisurely pace.  There proved to be a few lizard men at the bottom, which we dispatched rather efficiently.  

            I won't bore you with the details of the "dungeon," as it was rather large, and convoluted considering it had merely been a basement at one point.  I deduced that it must have been the basement of some noble's house, considering how ostentation it was.  The upshot of the whole thing was that we took out the kobolds with relative ease, but got our asses pounded by the ogre who seemed to be in charge of them.  Kedra and Guar were both hurt to unconsciousness during the battle, which His Lordship was conspicuously absent from.  We did mange to defeat the rotten thing, and I revived the dwarflette and the orc-boy with a pair of potions we'd found in one of the room.  I'd hazarded a guess that they were healing potions, judging by the smell and taste…hey…I _was_ raised in a church…there's some things that even I haven't forgotten yet.  His Lordship came rushing in at the very end of the battle, and took a swing or two, apparently trying to pretend he'd been there the whole time.  I don't know what irritated me more…the fact that he hadn't been there to help, or the fact that he'd been scouting out other rooms, and probably "appropriating" things without the rest of us.  Greedy pig.  Trust a noble to act all noble, and turn around and be the biggest thief of them all.  

            We got a bit lost wandering around, since the place was set up a bit like a maze, with doors connecting to hallways connecting to other doors, and then leading back to the first.  Makes my head hurt to think about it. I had a close call with a poisoned needle trap that, fortunately, malfunctioned.  And, come to think of it, there was an amusing incident involving Guar, and His Lordship.  In one of the rooms, we came upon a wall that the kobolds had been "decorating."  One of the  "pictures" on there seemed to represent a kobold god…I shudder to imagine such a possibility…a divine kobold.  Guar either had to relieve himself most suddenly, or felt the sudden urge to deface a "holy" place.  Without warning, he dropped his drawers and let fly a stream at the wall.  Saldenon and His Lordship both seemed less than amused at the prospect of watching our comrade relieve himself in front of them.  They picked up a few small stones, and chucked them at Guar to show their unhappiness.  This proved to be a less then intelligent idea, for the half-orc took their displeasure as a sign that they wanted his immediate attention, so he spun around, piss still dripping from the tip.  I do believe that Saldenon and Durand meant to open up with another volley, this time with the intention to hurt, but my sudden outburst halted them.

            "Ho-ly shit!" I exclaimed, my eyes looking down at the one spot on Guar that everyone else's were avoiding.  I couldn't help it; really…I have so few manners when it comes to something like that.  I won't give exact measurements…but suffice to say that Guar was bigger below than any normal person had a right to be.  

            "Maybe that's why half-orcs continue to exist…" I mused out loud.  I don't know if the party members were more appalled at me or at Guar.  I couldn't help it…I had to needle Durand.

            "So Your Lordship," I eyed him doubtfully.  "Do you compare?"   It took him a moment…just long enough that I knew he had to think.  In his best noble voice, he replied,

            "In everyway."  I seriously doubted it…and if he did, well then it was a pity, seeing as he was such a jerk. It was too bad that, as far as the rest of him went, Guar had been rather unfortunate in the looks department; otherwise it might have been worth the pain that would've been cause trying to see if his…monstrosity would have fit.  In fact, it really was unfortunate about all the men in the party.  As I'd remarked to Kedra the previous night, it seemed wholly unfair, waking up to be bound with three men (I mean bound by our common tattoo) two of which who had been most unfortunate when it came to looks, while Durand had the looks but lacked any degree of charm or personality to make him seem decent.  Just my luck.

            I did take one rather bad wound while we were finishing cleaning out the pests.  To my utter surprise, his Lordship came over to bandage me.  I really can't help myself sometimes…it's such a dreadful failing in me…The wound was on my leg, so, His Lordship had to roll up my pants, to bandage it.

            "Mmmm…your Lordship…getting rather familiar, aren't we?  We may have to take this to another room if you keep it up!"  Durand shot me a disgusted wound, and tied off the bandage with a vicious jerk.  He "accidentally" prodded my wound, rather painfully.

            "Not if you were the last woman on Toril," he muttered.  

            "Owww!  Well, I know when I've been rejected…sigh…I guess I'll just have to go out with Saldenon," I turned to the odd man, and gave him a flirtatious wink.  He actually looked flustered…or at least the hood shrouding his eyes did.

            It only took about two hours to finish up.  I sliced off the kobold's ears and strung them on a string to bring back to Lord Ilmeth, when Saldenon brought up the prospect of being asked to have proof.  

            We went back to town, looking and feeling, I admit, more than a little beat up.  Hells, we looked worse the only losers in a twenty-man bar fight.  Sad, really.  So as soon as we hit town, most of us split up to go get healed up a bit by some clerics, seeing as the kobolds had had a fair bit of gold down there with them…more than we were going to get paid for clearing them out, anyhow.  All in all, it had been a very profitable venture.  Kedra and Guar headed a temple to Tempus, called the Abbey of the Sword.  There was no way in the hells I was going to ask any priest of Tempus for help.  I went down the other church in town, dedicated to some outlander god called Gond.  The priests in there were all too happy to help when I showed them my wounds and coins.  I thought to ask them if them had any Cassil, the powder that I had my "partners" use, since I didn't think that my supply would be any good after two years.  But, of course, I thought better of it.  I didn't really trust the church of this outlander "god of creating weird stuff," to make the powder right, anymore than I trusted the clerics of Tempus to heal me.  I'd have to wait until I found a church to the Earthmother, or at least some outlander god that knew more of herbs and their uses.  Until then, I'd be careful, and take my chances should such a situation arrive.  

            We met up again at Lord Ilmeth's home.  He seemed surprised to see us back so soon, and more surprised when we handed over the string of kobold ears…not at the ears, but because we'd accomplished the task so quickly, I assumed.  He paid us 20 gold each…not great, but not bad either.  We stopped to have lunch, and someone came up with the brilliant idea to head out to deal with the goblins straightaway…with no nap, even!  Kedra protested, but was out voiced.  We left a while later, and it was dark by the time we reached the area where the goblins were supposed to be.  Durand wanted to go in and fight them then, but I didn't agree.  I voiced my suspicions that goblins could fight well at night, and Kedra supported it.  Saldenon agreed as well.  So, overriding His Lordship, we camped down for the night.  If we'd stayed in town, damnit, we could've slept in a nice, soft bed…but oh…no…

            Rather early the next morning, we rose and went out to do battle.  Once again, I scouted ahead, with Sinyalla, odd little thing that she was.  There were a few goblins stationed at the mouth of the cave, and I thought to use the same trap from the day before, but before I could even voice my opinion, His Lordship took matters into hiss own hands.  Without any warning to anyone, he strode out of the woods, sword drawn, and drew the goblins attention.  Idiot!!  The goblins, naturally, saw him and charged.  When the rest of the party saw the goblins attacking, they ran out, weapons drawn as well.  So much for stealth.  With all the yelling going on so close to the cave, the others, within were certain to be prepared for a fight when we entered.  I took my time walking out of the woods, hoping that His Lordship was take some wound for his foolishness, and determined not to offer any help unless the situation proved dire.  He didn't even get nicked…just to spite me.

            The goblins were more than a bit harder than the kobolds, being bigger, a tad smarter, and able to take more punishment.  There were about 3 caves with 8 or more goblins to a cave, the last one with two larger hobgoblins leading them.  By the time we'd gotten to the third cave most of us were already hurting.  I'd had to revive Kedra, once more; using the potion I'd lifted off of Storm.  It, too, was a healing potion.  In the third cave, Guar began to rage, like a northman, calling out Tempus as he flew into a fury of attacking power.  Greeeaatt…a northman…and an actual follower of Tempus…now I knew where the lack of intelligence spawned from.  All that aside, as I began to attack again, I felt a scream rise in my chest, and released it…blood curdling, and ear splitting, just as it had been on the night Gull died.  The shrill sound seemed to stun the hobgoblins I was facing, and gave me a better shot on it.  For the rest of the battle, and into the next one, with more goblins, and a few bugbears, I continued to scream as I attacked, living up to my name.  The screaming helped more than a little, and kept me from taking any further damage, which was pretty good, since I knew that it was only the rush of battle and sheer stubbornness that was keeping me standing.  Somehow, we managed to clear out the caves with no one dying, except those that we were killing.  I'd only had a taste of battle before, that once with the giants…and a street fight or two, until yesterday, and today.  I hate to say it, but I liked killing…monsters, at least.  I felt that same rush of power that I had when having sex…like I was in control of something.  I was fighting evil, for goblins and kobolds were nothing but… just as I'd promised.  I was beginning to make amends for my sins, and perhaps someday, when I've done enough, my curse will be lifted.  I don't know if this is what Gull wanted me to do with my life, but I was beginning to get a sense of purpose again, and I like that.  Every goblin I cut down, I knew, was one less goblin that would go out and hurt some innocent farmer, or child, who could not protect themselves.  It felt damn good, indeed.

            After all the battling was done, the caves were cleared, and we'd gathered up all of the goblins' ill gotten gains…ours now. I, along with most of the rest of the party, wounded as we were, went to sleep.   

            Rather early the next morning, we headed back into town.  Our first stop was to Lord Ilmeth's house to pick up our reward, another 20 gold each.  Durand refused his, so we each got a little more.  Idiot.  Everyone went off to get healed, except for Saldenon and myself.  Saldenon seemed to scorn the idea of going to get healed, and I didn't really think mine were dire enough to require me spending money to fix them.  Sure, I'd be a bit uncomfortable for a couple of days, but they'd heal.  I took a bath, and promptly went back to sleep.  

            Later in the day, when everyone was back, around dinner, we heard that there was going to be a series of contests the day before Shieldmeet, just before the festival.  Prizes for the winners would be given out at the festival itself.  We all collectively agreed that entering the contest would be a good idea, and maybe fun as well.  Guar wasn't going to enter, since "it wasn't fair, since he was so much bigger, " as he put it.  But, I managed to convince him that the "weaker" people would need a "superior" person to test themselves against, and ideal to look up to, if you will.  It worked…good thing too, since I had plans for the half-orc.  We spent the next few days relaxing and practicing.  I managed to find the "bet-taker."  I, and surprisingly enough, most of the rest of the party began to place bets on the contests.  The bulk of my money went on Guar, who'd entered the strength and foot race contests.  The odds were good, and I was certain that he would win.  I entered the archery contests, knife throwing, performing, climbing, and the footrace.  The latter was not to win, but to keep others from winning, should it look like Guar might be having trouble.  I bet on a few of the others as well, including his Lordship…why the hells not…he could conceivably win.

            The contests took place over the course of the entire day.  As expected, Guar won both his contests, making me a bundle of money.  I have to admit, though, it was rather impressive when he lifted a tree trunk the size of a ship's mast, and held it over his head with little effort.  No one even came close to him.  Saldenon and Sinyalla had entered every contest there was, even, though they certainly didn't have the skills to compete with most of the people there.  I laughed, quite loudly, when Sinyalla was knocked of her horse in less than a moment in the jousts.  Kedra didn't do so well, and I lost money on her when she lost the hammer-throwing contest.  I thought for certain that she would win it, being a dwarf.  Surprisingly enough, I placed in a few of the contest.  I came in second in climbing and the swordplay, although I hardly think that I earned the latter, since my two opponents were Sinyalla and Saldenon, and while they had luck, I'm better.  I felt rather bad when I accidentally knocked Sinyalla out, when she ran into the flat of my blade, rather than dodging it.  I won the archery contest by a narrow margin, and I won the performance contest as well, for a tune I played on my flute.  I laughed at Saldenon's performance, as did everyone else.  I'm certain that he was just being sarcastic, but everyone else seemed to love his "parody of a wizard." All he did was magically lift 4 stones in the air, wave his hands, say "oohh!  Impressive!  4 floating rocks!"  Then he clapped his hands, and darkness appeared where he stood.  I was surprised when he placed second.  My "goodwill" towards his Lordship by betting on him obviously hadn't redeemed me any in his eyes, for he actually tried to intimidate the judges into turning their decision against me.  It didn't work, of course.  One of the judges was Lady Storm.  Either she hadn't realized who I was, or didn't know that I'd stolen from her, since she voted for me as well. 

            The next day, we returned to the manor where the Shieldmeet festival was being held, our winnings from the reluctant and unhappy bet-taker in our bags.  The place now resembled a festival, combined with an open-air market.  There were all sorts of booths and tables set up, and people selling all manner of goods.  We all split up to wander around.  I left Guar and Kedra at the table set up by the priests of Tempus, Guar happily conversing with a priest, who seemed to know him.  I ran across a booth full of red robed wizards, with shaved heads, and lots of tattoos.  I pestered them for a bit, mostly about ink colors, and designs.  They put up with me with the air of any merchant: buy something or shut up.  They did have some rather nice inks…colors I'd never seen, or at least, never been able to produce, so I bought a few vials, and left them alone.  They weren't very friendly, anyhow, and as wizards, I was a bit uncomfortable with them, anyhow. 

 Then I saw a temple stand with a familiar symbol on it.  Intrigued, I strode up, and caught the attention of a rather cute, human priest.  I decided to buy something first, to butter them up for my questions.  Besides, it was something I needed, anyhow.                                               

            "Do you have any powdered cassil?"  I asked him.  The priest seemed a bit startled.

            "Um…of course, but wouldn't you be wanting some nararoot instead?"  He named the herb that Gull had wanted me to take after my "encounter" with the northmen.  I shook my head, and smiled.

            "Nope.  Cassil, if you please…at least twenty doses. And don't worry…it's not for me."  I winked at him.  He blushed, adorably, then measured out the asked-for amount, dumped it into a little sack, and handed it over.  I dropped twenty coins onto the table.  Not willing to leave just yet, I continued. 

              "I didn't know that the Earthmother's religion had spread so far," I commented to him.  He seemed a bit confused.

            "The Earthmother?  You mean Chauntea?  Well, we've always been well-established here in the Dalelands."  

            "No, I meant the Earthmother.  That is her symbol you're wearing…a bit outdated though."  I pointed to my belt buckle, which was engraved with the Earthmother's symbol…a red rose over a field of wheat.  His was an older version, a red rose on a sunburst.  See, my Lady Emilia? I do remember some of what you taught me.  

            The priest explained that the Earthmother goddess was different side of the goddess Chauntea…that they were, in truth, the same goddess.  I though that, maybe, Lady Emilia or Jael might've mentioned something similar once, but my memory, as always, failed me beyond that.  We sat down behind the booth, while another priest sold stuff for a while.  I took a better look at him.  At a little over 6 feet tall, he was definitely taller than me…exactly the height I liked best.  He had warm, brown eyes, and shaggy, brown hair with sun-streaks of gold.  Like Gull, and myself I saw a bit of "not-quite-humaness" around his eyes.  On the left side of his face, along the lower cheek and jaw line, he had a few long, scars running down into the collar of his robe.  I wanted to ask more about them, but decided to wait for later.  I explained to him that I was new to the Dalelands, originally from the Moonshaes.  He told me that he'd heard of the islands, but never been outside of the Dales.  I gave him a bit of a rundown on the past week or so, explaining the whole "dead" thing, then asked him about the tattoos.  He had no ideas about the tattoo, and recognized none of the symbol, save for the "Bane" one.  

Now, I admit, as I watched him, I was attracted.  And after all, it had been two years, technically…so I decided, that if he was willing…and he certainly looked it, with his wide smiles…I would have to get to "know" him better.  With my best flirtatious smile, and voice, I asked him if he would tell me more of the "outlander" gods, so that I would not appear so ignorant.  Naturally, he agreed.  He said that after the festival was over, I could find him at a temple called the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf, which was just across the river from Ashabenford, which, in turn, was only about 7 miles from Essembra, where we were currently staying.  I told him my name in my best, "aren't-I-cute, and so-obviously-interested" tone.  He replied that he was Andar Hawklight, and very pleased to meet me.   He'll no doubt prove to be an easy conquest when we meet again.

            A little after noon, there was a small ceremony for the winners of the contests, in which Lord Ilmeth gave us our prizes.  I ended up with a very nice bow for winning the archery contest…much better than Gull's old one, which had seen better days when he was still using it himself.  I got a carved wooden harp, with ivory and zircon stones inlaid in it for performance.  It was beautiful, and the strings perfectly in tone.  I knew that I would save it…but only to use when I wanted to impress people, or maybe just myself.  Otherwise, I would still keep Lady Emilia's harp, for it was dearer to me than the new one, for all that the new one was more expensive and pretty.  I also got a set of climbing gloves for winning the climbing contest, and a rather gaudy, but expensive mask from placing second in the swordplay contest.  I sold the latter for a pretty penny, as I had no conceivable use for it.  

            We were all gathered together after the ceremony, talking about our prizes, when "it" happened.  A man rode in to the festival, and up to Lord Ilmeth.  They obviously knew each other…but that's not what surprised me…the odd thing was that _I_ knew him, even though I know I've never seen him before.  His name was Randle Morn, the leader of Daggerdale, who'd recently retaken Dagger Falls from the Zhentarim.  And I don't, on my life, know how I knew all that.  Before I had time to think about it…the tattoo on my arm began to blaze, and writhe as though it were living fire contained just below my skin.  The agony that shot up my arm was worse than anything I can remember feeling.  It hurt so much that I expected to look down and see that someone had spilled acid on my skin…that someone was running a serrated knife down my arm.  But I found that I could not look down, and with a shock, found that I was no longer in control of my body!  No matter how hard I tried, I could not force my body to do the slightest thing…not even blink.  I would've though that I would've screamed in pain, but I couldn't make any sound.  So I became a watcher in my own life, as the awful magic in the tattoos controlled my body as though I were some sort of mummer's puppet.  I knew that it was affecting the others, as well, for they'd gone silent…their eyes blank, faces grim…tattoos burning…  We pushed though the crowd, knocking people aside who were in our way.  Against my will, I slipped my cutlass from the sheath at my side…or rather, whoever was controlling me did so.  I saw that the other's had drawn weapons as well.  I screamed within, trying to stop my body…but there was nothing I could do.  We launched forward from the edge of the crowd, together and silent…as a true party should be.  We charged at Randle Morn, the man's eyes widening, as we attacked him.  

            Fortunately, or unfortunately, as the case may be, we failed in the assassination attempt.  Guards moved to block us…a silver-haired woman ran up to help them…she looked a lot like Lady Storm I noted, just before the flat of her blade connected with my head and I fell into grateful unconsciousness.  

            I awoke in a cell alongside the others, who all looked bruised and beaten, but not dead.  All of our stuff was gone, of course, though I could see it on a table beyond the bars. There three guards at the front of the cell, beyond the bars, watching us nervously.  When they saw that we were stirring, one of them ran off.  He returned a moment later, with the silver haired woman who'd defeated us, in tow.  She entered the cell, the guards flanking her.   She did not seem nervous, only curious…confused maybe. 

            "Lord Morn escaped…though, needless to say, he was rather upset," she said without preamble.  I was relieved about that, anyhow…though our current situation left little to be desired.

            "My name is Dove Falconhand.  Perhaps you'd like to explain what just went on," she continued.            The others were silent…probably still in shock.

            "I don't suppose you'd believe us if I said that we didn't do it…that we had no control over our actions?" I muttered.  She raised an eyebrow.

            "Try me."

            "Our tattoos, " I showed her.  "When that guy showed up, mine began to burn…didn't yours?"  I asked the others.  Most of them nodded, or mumbled their agreement, except for his Lordship, who lied, and said no, for some reason I couldn't fathom.  Dickhead.  

            "Then…it was like someone pushed us out, and took control of our bodies.  There was nothing we could do to stop what was happening.  Hells, we only got here a few days ago…why would we want to kill some Lord?  Especially after we just won all those contests and such?  There's some sort of magic in the tattoos, I think.  We don't know who put them there, only that when we woke up, after being brought back from the dead, there they were.  We don't know how we got here, or why, only that we all died two years ago in a storm off the coast of Waterdeep.  You can ask around.  People know that we've been asking about the tattoos.  We've asked at a couple of churches. And we asked Lady Storm…she looks a lot like you."  I explained.  Dove nodded.

            "That's because she's my sister.  And I know that you've been asking around…that's why this whole affair is so confusing…but strangely enough, it is not unfamiliar.  I've heard tell of a similar incident that happened a while back…involving a woman named Alias.  She had similar tattoos on her arm, with strange powers.  Though, I do not know how she came by them, or how she finally got rid of them.  I do recognize the symbol of Bane, of course, though he is said to be a dead god…" Gods could die?  The concept was laughable.

"…And the top symbol is that of the People of Black Blood…an order of rather…dark druids…but other than that, I'm afraid there is nothing more I can tell you." Fat lot of help that was...another symbol named, but no closer to who the people were than before.  Maybe this Alias character was still alive somewhere, and could give us some information…namely who'd done this to us and how we could get rid of it.

            "I have a proposition for you.  Lord Ilmeth has agreed to release you, since all watching could tell that there was magic at work, and since it seems that there is something more going on here than the surface would indicate.  However…" I knew it!  There's always a "however"…  

            "We would like you to check something out for us.  There is something strange going on in Galath's Roost.  The nearby village of Glen and outlying farmers have become the target of raids.  Some think it's the drow doing it, but the drow attacks are usually more sporadic.  These attacks are more regular.  Someone has taken up residence in the ruined castle of Galath's Roost.  We'd like you to check out and see what is going on there."  I had a few questions, and voiced them.

            "Why would you trust us to do anything, since it's obvious that we're not completely in control of our own bodies?"

            "Because you did well in helping Lord Ilmeth with the other problems, and showed no sign of aggression until Lord Morn appeared.  Since Lord Morn has returned to Daggerdale, we feel that there probably won't be any problems."  I could almost hear the underlying "or else."  I supposed it was a fair enough answer.  I recognized several things about the "request" right away, though.  One, it was probably not a "request," and if we refused, I doubted we would've left that cell.  Two, it was most certainly a test of sorts…do this and do it well, and we won't hang you for what you did, willing or not.  And, three…we were expendable…why send valuable, trained guards to deal with an apparently dangerous problem when you can send adventurers to do it for you.  If we succeeded, the problem was ended, and if we failed, they lost nothing.  It was a win-win situation for the "government."   I hate leaders…

            So we agreed.  Like I said, there wasn't much of a choice.  I had no intention of sitting in a dungeon and rotting…although, had worst come to worst, they'd missed lock picks in my hair…there was always an escape, as Gull would say.  Our things were returned to us, including all of our money.  I was surprised at the last.  We were given directions to Galath's Roost, and then we ran into our second problem.  Since it was a few miles away, they wanted to give us horses to ride.  I shudder just thinking about it.  I don't like horses…I don't even like men built like horses…well…maybe one part of them…Anyhow, horses scare me.  Yeah, I know…me scared of horses…this is a joke right?  Nope.  I just don't like the damned things.  Oh sure, they're nice enough, as long you're all on the same level…then, they're kind of like big dogs.  But once you're up on them, you've lost control of your fate.  If the damned horse wants to go left, by the goddess, it goes left.  If it wants you off, then no amount of trying on your part will keep you on its back.  No…horses and I got along fine, so long as we maintained our distance.  Besides, feet were made for walking, and horses were made to help plough the fields.  Those were are the arguments I put forth to the others, save for the fact that I'm afraid of horses.  I even admitted that I couldn't ride.  His Lordship however, would not hear of walking.  Apparently, his feet are too noble to be forced to walk on the solid ground.  The others didn't seem to mind much…even the dwarf, and I knew for a fact that dwarves and horses were supposed to be as close to arch-nemeses as it gets.  But I was adamant.  As it stood now, my life was not my own, and I had less control over it than ever before, and I would be damned if they were going to force me to ride a horse!  So we ended up with a wagon, pulled by horses.  It wasn't so bad, since I could sit on the edge of the cart at the back, and jump off if it looked like the horses were going to pull something funny.  No don't get me wrong, I like animals…it's just that, horses can be so…vindictive.  I think they plan their assault with care and precision for maximum amusement on their part, and maximum embarrassment on mine. 

            I hated this…hated all of it.  It wasn't right and it wasn't fair.  Why does shit like this always have to happen to me?!  I'm beginning to think that I'll never be in control of my life, and it's making me mad…in every sense of the word.  First the curse…that rotten, awful, dreaded curse…I would never be able to love or let anyone love me in return until it was lifted…I could not allow myself to go through that pain again.  Gull and, Lady Emilia, and Jael had loved me…and told me so in a thousand ways…and I repaid them with deaths so awful it hurts me to think of it.   Then there was the headaches…they came without warning, for no apparent reason…incapacitating me for hours and days at a time. I'd gone without one for a while…before I'd died, anyhow…but there was no schedule for them.  Another could come on me in any instant…and I doubt that I'll be able to hide it from the others.  I don't know what they'll do when they find out…maybe kill me to put me out of my "misery."   No Gull or Emilia to keep it hidden anymore…and since I can't get rid of them until I can get rid of the tattoo…I just don't know what I'll do…besides suffer, that is.  And now this…this damnable tattoo and new curse…my will was no longer my own…now a puppet to someone else.  Yanked from death itself, to serve a faceless master…a slave with no apparent escape.  I wanted to kill…the urge in me was as strong as the turning tide…crashing against my very bones like the waves.  I would find who'd done this to me…and kill them.  Nothing fancy…no…just death.  And if I find that there is no escape from this curse, I will seek out my own death…I'd rather be dead than caught in yet another curse.  It wasn't fair…I was so close…perhaps Lady Emilia would've arrived for me the next minutes… but oh no!  Here I stand, ranting in a book, through ink.  I hate myself sometimes.  Sometimes I wish that the Lady had let me die that Eleint…my birthday…  

**_It's not FAIR!!_**  Why can't I ever just be normal?!

            It occurred to me a while later that I didn't know what "drow" were.  So I asked Kedra about them, being that she was much more pleasant than anyone else who might've known, had I asked.  When she told me that drow were dark-skinned, evil elves, I laughed, for I'd never heard of an evil elf.  My concept of elves was mostly that they were woodsy creatures, much like druids, only with pointy ears.  The idea of an evil elf was foreign to me, though I conceded that one such elf could possibly exist.  When Kedra told me that the whole race was evil, I told her that there was no such thing as an evil race, only evil individuals.  She insisted that they were though, until I told her that while I'd heard of evil humans, and dwarves, I'd never heard of evil elves, and would not kill any of these "drow" until they proved to be evil by my own judgment, and their own actions.  She seemed upset at my answer, but replied that if it were drow, I would "see."  I admit that there are some races where good is very hard to find, for instance orcs and goblins and…giants…but obviously good did exist…Guar was good and him being half of a race known for evil.  

            We left as soon as we got out…a little beat up, but nothing critical, and headed for Galath's Roost straight away.  I wondered if Andar had been there when we'd "attacked" the other Lord.  If he had, I'm sure that he won't be so nice to me when I see again.  Sigh.  And I liked him, too…  I would see him again, for I had a few ideas on the tattoos, and the whole attack thing.  They'd occurred to me while I was holding on for dear life in the back of that wagon.  I thought about the six bodies that had been in the room with us.  What if the ritual they'd obviously used on us had meant for them to die?  I remembered what the people had said about me…about possession.  What if somehow, their souls had been bound in our bodies alongside our own?  It would explain how we lost control, and someone else seemed to take over…but it was a question for the priests…and whatever he now thought of me, I meant to ask a priest of the Earthmother that I knew, rather than a priest of an outlander god, that I didn't.  My second idea was that the tattoos were obviously magical in nature, and therefore, perhaps magic could undo them.  But I would need to find a wizard to learn the answer to that theory…and I meant to find one, one way or another, and convince him or her to help me…any way I could.

By nightfall, we stopped to camp, hardly more than a few miles away from the village.  I took a first watch, and went to sleep after, leaving Guar and His Lordship awake.  It hardly seemed more than a few hours, when I was woken again by Guar's bellowing.  I sat up, and fumbled for my weapon, just in time to see Guar drop two unconscious forms onto the ground near the fire, and Sinyalla tie them up.  Durand patched them up a bit.  Guar promptly fell asleep, indicating that he'd gone into one of his berserker rages.  

            "…We'll take them into town tomorrow to turn them in…. they're worth more alive," I heard Durand say…remembered that Dove had mentioned something about how any bandit involved in the raiding was worth 100 gold alive, and only 25 dead.  Curious, I got up, and went over to see what was going on.  

            "I think we should wake them and question them first," Kedra voiced her opinion.  "They may know more about what's going on."  I took a look at the prisoners…both had skin as dark as ebony gems…or a starless night…and pointed ears.  So these were Kedra's drow.  Both were male, and though they were a little beat up, they were gorgeous.  I noticed them wake up.  Kedra began to ask them questions about what was going on at the 'Roost, even as Durand threatened them, and kicked at them.  I really did try to keep my mouth shut, but as more of their story came out, I felt a bit of pity for the two handsome creatures, and my honor demanded that I defend fellow thieves.  The drow claimed that they weren't involved in the raids, and that they were being set up to take the blame.  The raids were being done by raiders who rode horses from place to place, and dismounted for the attacks.  The drow never used horses, the more talkative of the two claimed.  When asked why they attacked, the two shrugged and replied that the raiders had killed all their fellows, and taken their leader, a woman named Gwenect, as a prisoner.  They figured that she, too, was probably dead by now.  Seeing as they had no money, and we looked to have some, they claimed that they meant to knock out the two guards…Guar and Durand, and then rob us.  Durand screamed that they'd tried to kill him, brandishing the arrow wound on his arm like a flag.  He said that no one used arrows to "knock" people out.  With a wry smile, I informed him that I did.   I quickly explained to Kedra, who seemed to be the only one being reasonable …although Sinyalla and Saldenon had yet to say anything, that the two were thieves…not much different than myself.  They obviously weren't involved in the raids…or if they were, I thought, it would be an easy enough task to follow them.  I told her that bandits and thieves were like anyone else…we worked hard at our jobs, often forced into them by a lack of "legal" work.  It was a way of life, and so long as no one was killed, it was only money…and most people robbed only from those who could afford it…and we certainly looked it.  Most thieves worked as hard as merchants…and most merchants expected to be robbed.  It was a way of life for all…even if the governments automatically condemned the thieves, without condemning the merchants for having created the bandits by keeping people poor, while keeping themselves rich…like the nobles, I added with a sneer at Durand.  Kedra seemed to agree with me, and saw my point of view.  She agreed, then argued that we should get what information we could, then let the two go.  That did not sit well with Durand, who yelled that they were _his_ prisoners, and that he would bring them to justice.  Sinyalla and Saldenon both agreed that, raiders or not, the two should be brought to _justice._  I tried to explain to them that there was no justice for a thief.  It never mattered to a magistrate the circumstances, only that the crime had been committed…it would not be justice…it would be murder.  Durand was having none of it, and told me to keep out of it.  He drew his sword, and muttered that heads were just as easy to bring back as whole bodies.  Then the screaming match erupted.  I stepped in front of the two, drawing my weapon.                           "Come on your Lordship," I beckoned.  "You'll have to go through me to get to them, so let's go!"  Kedra shouted that she wanted to question them still.  Sinyalla cried not to kill them, and Saldenon shouted for everyone to stop.  I didn't really think that Durand would do it, but he muttered beneath his breath…a spell, I think, and then raised his sword to strike.  I prepared to parry, wondering how it had all gone down hill so quickly, but as it turned out, I didn't have to.  As Durand moved to hit, his tattoo blazed, and he cried out in pain.  It appeared that the tattoo kept us from attacking each other…wise, I suppose, since one didn't want their "assassins" killing each other.  With a cry of rage, Durand drew a knife, and moved to cut his arm, to mar or destroy the tattoo…but as the edge touched his skin, the blade of the dagger melted as though it were ice held next to an inferno.                                

            Saldenon, once again proved to be the voice of reason, by "negotiating" a "truce."  Not everyone was happy with the final decision, though.  It was decided that the two men…the drow would be released, but everything they owned, including their clothing would be taken from them.  They would be let go into the forest, naked, after they'd told us what they knew.  Durand would hear no more, and stalked off, and Sinyalla protested taking away the men's clothing, even though I explained to her that it was just, since the two thieves had messed up royally.  The drow weren't even upset by the decision, seeming more than willing to give up their possessions in exchange for their lives.  They didn't even flinch when Saldenon cut off all of their clothes, leaving them naked.  Kedra quickly threw a blanket over their bare, nether regions, more for her own modesty than theirs, I think…although considering that she'd washed Guar without any reservations about his nudity, I thought it was rather odd.  And, of course, I was rather disappointed that she covered them so quickly that I didn't get a good look at them…I was rather interested in seeing if they were black everywhere…if you understand my meaning.  We questioned them a bit further, but learned little more than what they'd already said…mainly that their leader, Gwenect had disappeared, the others had been killed, that someone who wasn't drow was in the 'Roost, pretending to be the drow, and that those people rode horses…something that the drow never did.  They snickered something about horses being too noisy.  When we released them, I gave them a quick warning.

            "I doubt your intentions for us were as "noble" as you tried to lead us to believe.  I'll give you one warning…don't try it again, or betray us, for next time, I'll not stay their hands.  I don't suffer idiots gladly."  They quickly agreed, whether truthful or not, I don't know…but I know that I will keep that promise.  Dumb thieves and murderers give those of us with some degree of honor a bad reputation. 

            After they left, so did we, even though it was still night out.  I told the rest of the party, that all of the shouting had doubtless awoken every living thing within miles, and possibly even the people that we were looking for.  We set a camp again a little ways away, and fortunately enough, the rest of the night passed without incident.

                                                                     We arrived at the village, rather early the next morning.  No one mentioned that it was a dwarven village, but we found that out soon enough when we got there.  The head of the village, or at least I assume he was, met us out front.  They took the cart, and horses, for that was as far as we could take them, and said that he would return them to Dove.  He did mention that Dove was "a nice lady, for a harper," or something like that.  I took it to mean that Dove, like her sister, Storm, played music, though I saw no sign of an instrument when we met her…of course, one usually wouldn't carry an instrument into a prison with several potentially dangerous "criminals" within.  The dwarf also muttered something I couldn't hear when Kedra mentioned that she needed to shave…I didn't catch the words, but the displeasure in his tone was clear.  I had heard that dwarven women, like their men could grow beards, but the idea seemed so preposterous that I scarcely gave the idea any credit…a woman with a beard?  Ugh.  But then Kedra did go off and shave…she must've been doing it for several days, but I guess I never noticed it.  The sight was rather enlightening.  I shuddered at the thought of having a beard…hells…I don't even like bearded men…too scratchy.  We left a little while later, after having a bit of food.  We learned from the dwarves that the raids had been on the village, and on many of the outlying human-run farms, and that the raiders had been killing…not just stealing.  I sighed, for I don't condone the murder of innocents.  Despite my somewhat shady occupation, I had never killed anyone who had not provoked or deserved their demise…and never anyone "innocent…" not even the rotten nobles and merchants who screamed and wailed like pigs when I robbed them.  I suppose I would've come to see what was going here, even had we not been forced into doing it.  The dwarf gave us precise directions to the 'Roost, and we were on our way.  We were attacked once while on the road; by the biggest bee I've ever seen in my life…magic is the only thing I could think of to cause such a mutation.  We all had a hand in taking it down, but Durand struck the final blow…and lost his temper…began kicking and screaming at the bee in a most "un-lordly" fashion.  He beat at the insect's corpse, muttering the names of the people he "hated," and "wanted to kill."  I did notice that, by far, my name came up the most often…and that he did add Kedra, and even silly Sinyalla once or twice…why Sinyalla, I don't know, though I fathom that it may be because she hadn't wanted to kill the drow either.  He didn't seem upset at Saldenon, or Guar, strangely enough.  I wondered if, perhaps, His Lordship was one of those men who preferred his own type to women…never could figure that out, but hey!  Who am I to judge?  It would explain quite a bit, though, I realized.  When Durand had finished doing his best impressions of a spoiled five year old, we continued.  

            We reached the 'Roost just before noon.  It had once been a fair looking castle…a bit on the smallish side, though.  The top levels had all fallen in, as had the tops of the towers at each corner, but the bottom floor seemed relatively intact.  The moat surrounding it was empty and dry, and the outer walls were riddled with holes where rocks had fallen through.  There were definite signs of occupation, though.  For one, there was a definite path in, and a pile of dirt across the moat, making a crude bridge into the front of the fortress.  Behind there were trees, and a good deal of underbrush surrounding the castle, where the forest had begun to retake the land, and in the distance, from somewhere behind the castle, vultures circled overhead.  

            We decided not to go into the front, but to circle around back.  As we made our way around the outer bailey, there was no sign of any of the castle's inhabitants...no guards, or horses…or even any signs of the two.  We did come upon a small "graveyard" in the back, where the vultures were.  I use the term "graveyard" loosely, for it was more of a collection of very shallow graves…and not really a ""yard" in the sense that it was obviously a burial ground for the murdered, not holy ground.  Several of the graves were open…and all were on the small side.  Within, there were the bodies of more of the dark-skinned elves.  We were only able to tell, due to their smallness, and the few strips of dark flesh hanging from the well-picked bones.  Saldenon noticed me poking around at the graves, and asked, in a rather sarcastic manner, 

            "Robbing more graves?"  I grinned at him, and replied flippantly, 

            "Naw...nothing shiny…and bones just don't sell for much.  But if I find anything worthwhile, I let you know."

            We continued on, and found the remains of a campsite…no doubt the same one that the two we'd captured earlier had spoken of…where their fellows had been attacked and killed.  It was cleverly concealed, but I've always been good at finding what I shouldn't.  Not too far away, we caught sight of a rather large mound of sandy-dirt, with three holes in the top.  Curious, when went up to check it, when giant ants, similar in size to the bee began to come out.  We attacked, for we had little choice.  I did a bit of damage, and then decided that if there were as many ants in this "hill" as there were in a normal anthill, and then we could potentially be in trouble…and lots of it.  I thought to try to block off the holes with boulders.  I managed to drag one into place as the party brought down a fourth ant, but after that, no more emerged.  So either four had been all that was in there, or the others were staying below.  I didn't much care either way.  We left the anthill quickly, and went down into the moat and up the other side again, then through a hole in the outer wall.  Inside we found that the castle was little better than a pile of ruins.  We wandered around, but there was nothing apparent to be found…there were trees and shrubs growing where rooms had once been.  It was in one of the rooms, from which a large oak tree now stood, that Kedra was "attacked."  I joined her at the door as an acorn hit her directly in the head.  Another one missed by a narrow margin.  I peered up into the tree to see what was causing the trouble, and saw a glimpse of red among the green and branches.  I caught the third acorn, mid-air before it could reach the intended target, and promptly winged it back…right at the flash of red.  There was an outraged chitter from above.   

            "Show yourself!" I demanded.  Another acorn came down at me, but a moment later; a tiny red-scaled dragon hopped down onto a branch, and shook a claw at me with intended fierceness.  I was hard pressed not to laugh, but knew well enough to keep my amusement to myself.  The creature was a pseudo-dragon.  We had them in the Moonshaes.  I'd never actually seen one before…albeit not from lack of trying, seeing as I used to devise all manner of traps for the little creatures when I lived at the church in a vain attempt to catch one.  I never caught one, but the bait in the traps always seemed to vanish mysteriously.  In any case, I knew, from Jael, that pseudo-dragons could be dangerous.  They had a venomous sting that could kill if left unattended.  But, I also knew that they were smart beasties, and that with the proper motivation, we might be able to induce it to talk.  Just then, a tinny little voice squeaked in my head.

            "What are you doing in my home?!"  It demanded.  I knew it was the dragon.  I explained to it the problem, about the riders and the killings, and the raids.  It spilled what it knew with the promise of a gold coin.  The pseudo-dragon had, indeed seen the riders, and had been playing tricks on them.  When the riders reacted poorly, the dragon had apparently stung the last one in line, who'd fallen from his horse in a stupor from the venom.  The little thing giggled happily about that, boasting of how wonderfully skilled it was, and that the other riders didn't even notice their compatriot fall.  Of course, when I asked what had become of the fallen one, the dragon couldn't recall, or didn't know.  Silly, flighty, thing.  I asked it when the riders came, and it replied once every ten days, and then only for the span of a night.  It informed me that the riders would always ride the same way, coming from the west, down along the 'Roost, and to the south, where they vanished.  It couldn't tell me during what part of the night the riders would appear, not could it tell me what race the riders were of, for they were always hooded.  It did however inform me that it had been ten days since the last time they'd been by, and so, would be back that very night, if the pattern continued.  Good news and bad…good, for we knew they were coming and would not have long to wait…bad because it didn't give us much time to prepare.  

            Now, all the time I was questioning the pseudo-dragon, the rest of the party was still moving about.  Saldenon, Durand, and Sinyalla were at least paying attention, and even throwing in a question or two of their own.  Kedra was at the base of the tree, trying to catch the dragon, muttering that she wanted it.  I think it was more for a pet, than out of any need of vengeance for the acorn barrage, though.  All the same it was disconcerting the dragon, which would loose his train of thought, trying to avoid Kedra.  I wouldn't've told her to stop, but even though I don't know her well yet, I've pretty much figured out that trying to get the dwarf girl to stop something once she's set her mind to doing it, is like trying to turn back the tide with your hands…simply won't happen, and results in a great deal of wasted energy.

            It was about that time, that we heard Guar roar.  Naturally we all bolted out to see what was going on.  Guar was at the edge of a dark pit in the ground of the keep.  There was a mass of writhing vines coming up from below, wrapped around him, pulling him closer and closer to the edge.  Guar was struggling mightily, but failing.  I realized that my bow would be worthless in this situation, and so, drew cutlass and dagger, and bolted to help out the hapless half–orc.  Durand, and Kedra rushed over at the same time.  It proved to be a bad idea, for as we approached to cut at the vines, the ground at the edges of the pit gave way.  Kedra managed to jump clear, but Durand, Guar, and myself fell.  We landed hard, about ten feet below, in a strange cavern, with dripping green pillars of stones shooting up and down.  I stumbled to my feet, when the vine wrapped around my legs and waist, and began to squeeze with an unholy amount of strength for a plant. The fall had knocked Guar out, and Durand looked a bit shaken as well.  I felt bad, and was feeling worse by the moment.  I began to slash at the vine, even as it continued dragging at me, pulling over towards where I could see a skeleton hanging, bones crushed.  Durand cried out…he was looking bad…I could hear his amour beginning to shriek as it was being bent into him by the vine.  From above, I could hear Kedra calling for us, asking if we were all right.  I didn't have any bloody time to answer such a ridiculous query, and continued chopping away.  A moment later, Saldenon landed, face first on the cavern floor…apparently having leapt down to save us…by the goddess…what an entrance!  He quickly recovered, and the odd wizard lent a hand.  Durand went down, but Saldenon and I managed to finish the pernicious plant off by the time Kedra and Sinyalla had jumped down as well, to lend a hand.  Fortunately, the skeleton had had a pouch on him…with 4 potions of healing.  We forced one down Guar, and one down Durand.  I thought about taking one myself, but figured that, since I was still standing, I ought to save it for a time when I wasn't.  When we were all standing again, I commented on the fact that I doubted that anyone had thought to tie off a rope overhead but jumping down the pit.  Naturally, no one had.  Guar tried to hoist Kedra and pushed her out of the hole, but as soon as her fingers touched the edge, more of the ceiling fell away.  The ground was too unstable to climb back up, so it was left for us to find a way out.  The cavern was large enough that none of us could see the other end.  There was, however, a small, swift stream of water running through the cavern, so we followed it, hoping it would lead to an exit.  We did find an exit, but it led us straight into another ant hive…and this one had a huge queen ant in it.  The fight was rather long and tedious.  Durand and Saldenon were both badly hurt, and I used the one potion to awaken His Lordship, given that we unfortunately required his help to defeat the ants.  We killed the queen ant, and Guar and I used her body to block us the ant hole, while the others defeated the last of the "regular" ants.  I was feeling particularly bad at that point, but didn't bother to let on to the fact.  Guar seemed to notice, and tried to help, but I told him not to bother…most of the damage was inside, I knew.  I would have to heal on my own, or find a cleric.  I knew that Guar and Durand were both priests of their faiths…or at least on they're way to becoming such, but frankly, I didn't think either of them could or would help…so I didn't bother to ask.  We continued on, and came into an actual room, of sorts.  There were ledges and hollows along the wall, which were all covered by shards of broken, colored glass.  A wide, shallow pool of green-tinted water filled the center of the room, fed by the stream of water.  Sinyalla figured out the broken glass was the remains of what had been some sort of wine cellar.  There was a door to the north, which Guar, Kedra, and Durand went to check out, and promptly began prying at it when they discovered that it was jammed.  I peered at the pool, and saw a strange face appear in the water, then fade away.  After a few moments, a large snake sprang form the water, and attacked us.  It looked rather dangerous, so I attacked with bow and arrow.  It was felled quickly.  Sinyalla, while poking around the pool, discovered that there was a treasure hidden below the water, and we drew it out piece, by piece.  There was a long sword, coin, and gems, and a scroll.  At the door, the others had managed to get it open, using all their combined strength, only to discover that a massive honeycomb was blocking the way.  Guar chopped through it, but just as it began to break, we heard the sound of buzzing…lots of it.  I remembered the giant bee from the forest, earlier, and realized that this was where it must've come from.  It was a giant hive.  The others decided to find another way out.  I thought that we could just light the hive on fire to kill the bees, or at least smoke them out, but went along with the others anyhow.  If there was another way out, I could come back later, and get the honey from the hive.  I just love honey.

            We did find another way.  It led down a short stairway, into a damp room.  There was another pool in the chamber, and our footsteps echoed loudly.  As we watched, that same face from before appeared in the water.  Suddenly, it began to speak.

            "Halt! Who goes there?"  It demanded…then, it went on before we could answer.

            "What do the living seek in the sepulcher of Galath the betrayed?  Betrayed by small-minded men, glory seekers and snivelers!  The treasure of Galath is for Galath alone, but know this!  There is a winged creature who lairs above, and it mocks me, day and night!  Bring me the head of this beast, and one tenth of the treasure shall be yours!"  I thought us an idea for the "ghost," and answered.

            "I hate to tell you, but Galath is dead…but this here, " I gestured to Durand,

"This Galath's grand son…so now it's his treasure.  You've done well guarding it, but now Galath's grand son has come for it."  The "ghost" seemed momentarily disconcerted.  I noticed then, that Kedra was gone…saw a set of stairs in the corner leading up.  Durand gave me an odd look, but went along with it, claiming to be Galath's grandson.  Banter went back and forth for a few minutes, as the "ghost" attempted to convince us to go kill the pseudo-dragon for it, and tried to decide if we were telling the truth.  A moment or two later, Kedra returned, her axe drawn.

            "Don't listen to it!  The little dragon says it's some sort of unseelie fairy!"  I knew what those were, mostly from Jael's tales.  I knew they weren't good, so I drew my cutlass.  The "ghost" noticed my actions.

            "No! No!" It shouted.  "I'll give you some of the treasure…just don't hurt me!"  

            "Where is the treasure?" I asked.

            "In the other pool," it replied.

            "Oh…well, we already have that treasure," I told it.

            "You do?!" it exclaimed.   "Well, hmph!"  It pouted.  It flew up out of the water for a moment, long enough to see that it was not a ghost, or an unseelie fairy, but rather, some impish looking thing, then it dove back under the water and did not resurface.  I sheathed my cutlass.  That was that…problem solved, and without much in the way of a fight.  We took the stairs back up to top, and made our way back over to the tree with the pseudo-dragon.  Guar, Durand, and Saldenon promptly went to sleep, seeing as they were all wounded and tired.  I still didn't feel top notch myself, but there were things to that needed to be done.  I called the pseudo-dragon down, enticing it with another piece of gold.  It flapped down to my shoulder, and began to answer my questions.  It showed me exactly where the riders would come, where it had stung the one rider.  As I was scouting out locations for some traps, I saw some people approaching from the north.  None of them were hooded, or looked as though they were skulking about, or raiders…besides, it was still a good three hours or so before dark, anyhow, so I didn't throw a fuss, simply waited for them to approach.  As they got closer, I saw that there were 2 of them, and that they were both elven.  They both had the same silvery-pale skin as the one elf I'd seen in Baldur's gate.  They both had pointed ears, and dark hair, each one wearing a metal breastplate.  They hailed me as they slowed down…I noticed then, that I was not alone…Sinyalla had apparently followed me out.  

            After a bit of questioning, I learned that the two elves were Simimar and Lathai, that they were in the area because of the raiding, and they also believed it to be drow.  I told them what little we'd managed to find out…sad really…our best source of information was a tiny…cowardly pseudo-dragon, who'd departed my company as soon as I spotted the riders.  Needless to say I did not divulge the source of the information.  They agreed that the horse troops were probably not drow, and that it was rather puzzling.  They asked me if we'd seen another elf…a rangerish fellow, named Inialos Oakwood.  I told them that we hadn't, but that we'd keep an eye out for him.  Inialos was apparent kin of theirs, and had gone missing a ten-day ago while he and another elf were scouting.  They'd found the body of the other elf, but not Inialos.  I told them about the drow we ran into, whose story was very similar.  They asked what we were doing at the 'Roost, and I told them that we were looking for the riders, and indeed, expected to confront them that night.  They warned me to be careful, that Galath's Roost was said to be haunted.  I laughed, and said that the "ghost" was probably the antics of the pseudo-dragon and the "unseelie fairy."  They shrugged, and told me to be careful all the same.  They asked if I knew anything about the graves near the keep, and I told them what little I knew.  I invited them to come help with the attack later…they didn't say yes or no, but I wasn't really surprised that they didn't show up later…I wouldn't really trust me either.  The more talkative of the two gave me a potion of healing when I mentioned that several of the party members had been injured.  I guess they knew I wasn't lying, seeing as I certainly looked as though I'd been in a fight...bruises, and cuts, and clothing ripped in all the wrong places…damn it.  They left after that, and I went back inside the keep.  I handed the potion over to Kedra, and told her to give it to one of the men when they awoke…preferably whoever was whining the most, so they would shut up.  Men are such babies…  Those elves were rather cute though, I must admit…not very good in the conversation department, as they'd been rather short and to the point, but definitely blessed in the looks department…highly exotic, in a rugged, rangerish sort of way.  I believe I sighed, but went back to my investigations…no sense day dreaming when there was work to be done.  

            I decided to take another look below.  I had a feeling that there was something beyond that damned beehive, and meant to find out.  By myself, without the others clanking about, I could no doubt scout the place out without having to worry about the bees.  So I took up a candle, and down I went once more.  Guar had knocked open a decent enough size hole in the hive, and I was able to slip through it.  There was a ton of beeswax, and so much honey in the combs that it was all I could do to restrain myself from having a taste…sticky fingers would not do if there was trouble.  I vowed to return later…the honey would be my treat, the beeswax I could sell to a candle maker for top coin, seeing as how there was so much of it.  I moved cautiously through the hive…the bees were easy to avoid seeing, as they were so big, and lumbering, and their buzzing was rather loud.  About halfway through I noticed that there was a light source moving through the hive with me that certainly wasn't coming from my candle.  I turned about, only to see that, once again, Sinyalla had followed me.  Her skin was the source of the light, though I couldn't for the life of me understand why her skin was glowing.  Must be some sort of wizardly thing, I supposed, even though I'd yet to see her cast any spells…or do anything overly useful for that matter.  Hells, I don't even know what she did for a living.  She was certainly pretty enough to be a high-priced whore, but lacked the worldly attitude of one.  She wasn't dressed like, nor did she act like a noble.  And her fighting skills could certainly use a bit more practicing.  A wizard…most probably…maybe she just doesn't have a spell book or anything.  I didn't say anything as she followed me, though she knew that I knew she was there.  I didn't want to make any noise to attract the bees.  We reached the end of the hive, and found a small crack in the wall.  I squeezed through first, and she followed, and we found ourselves in an actual hallway, not the caves.  The corridor stretched right and left, but I was more interested in the door straight ahead, and the kobolds near it.  There were only two kobolds, and knocking the little buggers out was like easier than seducing a drunken, naked, Northman.  Needless to say they went down without a sound.  The walls and ceiling of the hall were all decorated in a woodsy kind of mural…very pretty, but faded.  The door itself had an image on it…that of the full moon, with a milky white cloudy arching overhead.  Iiinnnteresting…

            Of course, it was locked.  My first attempt to open it met with abject failure.  I wrestled and subdued the urge to boot the door, and curse like a sailor…I was so proud of my restraint.  Then…oddly enough, Sinyalla volunteered to have a go at it.  I shrugged, rather skeptical, and stood aside.  Damned if she didn't whip out a set of picks…a thief?  Sinyalla?  I don't know if I can swallow that.  She made to open it, but as her hands connected with the door, there was a flash, and she crumpled to the ground, her hands smoking a bit.  Well…there'd obviously been a trap, and she'd set it off.  It'd knocked her silly.  I recalled that she'd taken one of the four potions.  I located it, and poured it down her throat.  She awoke after the healing magic did its work.  I heard some more kobolds down the hall and warned her to be quiet.  She nodded. I took my time, the second time, and close to ten minutes later, I finally managed to pop the bloody lock, with no harm to my own person, thankfully.  I walked into the room, and Sinyalla moved to follow, only to find that she could not cross the threshold, not for any trying.  Said she didn't even want to try.  I thought that it was strange, but figured that there was some sort of magical trap on the door.  Don't know why it didn't affect me.  Gull usually had only one thing to say when it came to magical traps: avoid them.  There were alternate cases, though, where the reward was great, and those times were the ones that we would hire one of the little outlander wizards, or hedge-wizards that sold their skills for coin to help out.  I figured, though, that since I was already in that I would go see what was so important that it had to be kept behind a magically warded door.  

            Inside, the room was irregularly shaped, the walls decorated with sylvan scenes. Directly ahead was an image of the full moon, with a milky cloud hanging over it, just like the door, only larger.  Just in front of it was a small fountain with three jets of water, bubbling merrily.  Two braziers lit the rooms alongside the image.  Suddenly a voice boomed in the emptiness of the room.

            "What goes on here?"  I quickly ducked into the shadows, just in time as an elven knight materialized in the room.  He looked around, curiously.  Dressed in gleaming plate armor, emblazoned with the image of two golden stags rearing on a field of blue, he was a unique sight, or would've been if I hadn't been able to see through the translucent form.  This then was the ghost, I surmised.  

            "I could've sworn I heard someone…" I was curious, I'll admit it.  So, using a bit of voice throwing that I picked up on the streets, I called out to him, making it seem as though I was standing in the shadows in another part of the room.

            "Who are you?" I asked.  Predictably, he looked over where the voice had come from, and not at me.

            "I am Lyklor Kelerandri.  Who are you, and what mischief are you about?"

            "I'm not "about" anything.  I was just looking for some missing people…a dark skinned elf, and light skinned one.  You haven't seen them about have you?"  I replied.  He continued to try to find me in the wrong part of the chamber, seeming confused at his inability to do so.

            "No…there has been no one here but for the wretched kobolds…not for more years that I can recall.  And the kobolds cannot cross the door.  How is it that you crossed?

            "I dunno, just lucky I suppose."

            "And what is this you speak of?  The drow?  In my family's crypt?  They could not pass the door.  But I do not like the idea of them crawling around anywhere near here… "

            "No, it's not really the drow…well, they are around here, but it's someone else causing the trouble."

            "No, if they are around, then it is surely the drow.  Now, I have told you that I have seen no missing people.  What else do you want?  Do you seek to loot the crypts of my family?  …If you do…"  I cut him off before he could begin to threaten me.

            "Hey, relax.  I promise that I won't take anything that you don't offer to give me, okay?"  He nodded slowly.

            "Show yourself.  I mean you no harm, as long as you cause none in return.  Please.  If the drow are about, I will give you what little aid I may.  I have weapons.  I shall give you two of my items to assist you."  He seemed sincere, so I stepped out of the shadows.  He was startled.

            "But I thought you were over here!"  I merely grinned at him.  He was cute, in a noble kind of way…but I don't go for undead, cute or no.  

            "I'm Raine the Banshee, nice to meet you, Lyklor."  He nodded.  

            "Follow me," he walked over to one of the walls and walked though it.  

            "Um…Lyklor… I'm not dead.  I can't walk though walls.   He came back through.

            "Oh…sorry."  I think he might've blushed…if ghosts could blush, that is.  I bet he was shy when he was alive…  He approached one of the braziers, and tipped it back.  A hidden door opened.  I followed him into a small room that contained a lone sarcophagus made of green marble.  Carved onto the top of it was Lyklor's likeness, so I assumed that it was his grave.  Weird…  

            "There.  My belongings are within, you may take whichever two things you wish, to aid you against the drow."  I could've told him that we weren't out for fighting the drow, but since he was being generous enough to help, I figured I'd oblige him.  It took me a bit of struggling to get the lid open…I'm not overly strong, and it was rather heavy.  I believe that Lyklor laughed at me…great, I'm comical to the undead.  Inside, there was a set of shiny full plate, only a little tarnished, a bastard sword, a fine looking longbow, and a pendant of platinum and diamonds.  I quickly picked up the pendant…it was worth a lot, and I though of a whole lot of things I could do with the money it would bring.  He raised an eyebrow, but did not object.  Then I debated.  I really wanted the longbow for myself…it was in good condition, better than Gull's battered old short bow, and even nicer than the one I'd won…but on the other hand, I knew that Durand needed some new armor badly.  His had been pretty much ruined by the weird vine, and the ants…at the very least, it would not be serviceable for any upcoming battle, which would leave His Lordship without any protection.  I may not particularly care for Durand, but he hasn't annoyed me enough to want him dead just yet.  Damn my charitable nature…  I gathered up the armor, being careful about the ancient bones within…most of them were so old that they turned to dust at my touch…but Lyklor didn't seem to mind much.  I looked again at the bow.

            "I don't suppose you'd be willing to trade for the bow?"  I asked, half in jest.

            "What do you have to trade?" He replied, perking up.  I suppose being a ghost was rather lonely, and he seemed to being enjoying the conversation.  I set everything down, and dug through my backpack.  I was kind of ashamed at how shabby most of my stuff was.  I offered him the other short bow, but he didn't seem interested.  His was better, so I didn't really think it was a fair trade anyhow.  Then I saw a glint within, pulled out the harp I'd won.  It was a pretty thing, but the sound of it was no better than Lady Emilia's harp, for all it's gems and gilt.  It was a trophy, but not very important otherwise.

            "What about this?"  I asked him.  The harp was probably worth more than the bow, but I needed the bow more, so it was fair.  His ghostly eyes lit up.

            "Ah.  Do you play?  It has been so very long."

            "Well, I'm no Storm Silverhand, but I can pluck out a decent enough tune.  On the harp, or flute, if you'd like.  I'd hazard to say I'm better at the flute…probably because it's all sound and no words.  With the harps, comes songs, and I'm not very good at remembering lyrics.  Actually, I played a song on the flute to win the harp at a Shieldmeet festival"

            "Then I must hear that song," he stated.  I pulled out my flute, and he gasped.

            "Where did you get that?"  He gestured at my instrument.  I looked down at the handful of delicate amethyst crystal.

            "Oh…I found it on the beach one day…in the Moonshaes, where I grew up.  No one ever came looking for it.  Why?'

            "It's just that such flutes are only found on Evermeet, where the crystals to make them are grown."

            "Oh…well I've never been to Evermeet…don't even know where that is, to tell you the truth…I figure that it probably belonged to someone who died in a wreck, or something."                  

            "Do not worry about it…I was just surprised.  Please, play."  So I did.  It may not have been my best performance, but it certainly was far from my worst.  I played him one of my ocean songs.  I was gratified to see the smile on his translucent face, when I finished.

            "Well done…  I shall take the harp, then, and you may have my bow, and good luck to you with the drow.  I took up the bow, and tested it.  It was still strong and flexible, despite its obvious age…and the work of a master crafter.  

            "Well, it's been nice meeting you, Lyklor.  Say…why is it that you're haunting here?" I asked.

            "I guard the bodies of my family from desecration," he replied in a pompous tone.  

            "Oh…well, y'know I don't think that anyone could find them down here.  The 'Roost's ruined, y'know."

            "All the same, I shall keep my guard."  I nodded…I suppose it was his choice to stay, even though I wasn't very comfortable with the idea of any undead…I suppose that's due to Lady Emilia's churchly influence.  Still, he hadn't been unfriendly, or anything, so I didn't really have a problem with him. I left then, carrying all that bloody, heavy, damned armor out.  I would have to go back later for the honey.  

            We got back topside, and still had at least another hour before the dark fall.  As predicted, Durand slavered over the armor.  He tried to offer me a piddling sum of money for it, but I knew about the cost of such a set of armor…  The deal we agreed on was that he owed me a favor…one that could be called in whenever I asked for it, and with no complaints on his part.  He reluctantly agreed, then began drawing on the armor, like a child playing with a new toy.  Lyklor must've been a fairly decent sized elf when he'd been alive, for the armor fit Durand well enough.  

            Meanwhile, I grabbed up Kedra, Sinyalla, a shovel, and two long lengths of rope to set the plan I'd come up with into action.   Along the road that the riders would travel, I set two trip ropes, stretched out between trees, and stones on the castle.  Just beyond the ropes, I had Kedra dig some shallow holes…deep enough to trip a man or a horse, but not to hurt them.  With luck, the riders wouldn't see any of the traps in the dark.  The horses would stumble, and hopefully throw, or at least unnerve their riders, which would make them vulnerable for our attack.  Guar and Kedra would hide in the moat at the front of the 'Roost, and the rest of us would position ourselves in a small copse of trees beside the fort.  When the riders were in place, we would attack from behind, the front, and one side.  With the 'Roost on the other side, there would be no escape, and we would have them.

            Everything was ready, and everyone was in place as night fell.  I'd warned Guar and Kedra not to kill the riders, only incapacitate them…they were, after all, worth more alive than dead.  And besides, we needed to know where they'd taken the two elves, and if they were working for anyone.  

            The riders came two hours later.  Cloaked and hooded, they rode up from the west, just as the little dragon had specified. There were five of them.  They stumbled into our traps, and it all went perfectly.  Four went down, thrown from their horses, and the party members were upon them, binding their hands and feet with more rope.  The fifth nearly managed to get away, but I brought him down with an arrow to the shoulder.  He fell, and lay, moaning on the ground.  

            "Why did you attack us?" he demanded.  I yanked back his hood…a human, and with skin as fair as my own.  

            "Why have you been raiding on people and blaming it on the drow?" I countered.  He protested, saying that they were no raiders, and that, indeed, they'd been sent to seek out the raiders.  I didn't believe him for a moment.  Fortunately, we had Guar.  Guar put on a grand show of intimidation, roaring with his full lung capacity about how we should kill them all and be done with it.  Kedra and I both saw that Guar was play-acting, and went along with it.  

            "You'd better tell the truth, " I said to him.  "Guar is hard to control when he wants to kill…we may not be able to hold him back!"  Kedra was throwing her weight against Guar's legs, yelling, 

            "No Guar, they're worth more alive!"  I knew it for an act, for Kedra "seemed" to be holding Guar back, although, I knew that if he were so inclined, Guar could move Kedra in a trice.  The man fell for it, graying, obviously in fear for his life.  He spilled everything.  

            They were indeed the raiders, and had tried to put the blame on the drow.  In reality, they worked for a group called the Zhentarim.  I didn't know who they were, but the others, like Durand and Kedra obviously did, for they sneered at the name… no doubt it was some sort of troublesome organization.  After more questioning, during which I had to teach Kedra that stabbing a prisoner was not a good way to get information, and hitting a man in his nether parts was a certain way to cause him to pass out, we found out that there was a camp.  The man didn't want to tell us how to get there, or how to open the "portal" into it, but another display from Guar changed his mind quickly enough.  On the hands of two of them, there were tattoos of open eyes.  We figured that the tattoo were how they opened the portals.  We stripped the cloaks from all of them, three humans and two half orcs, and donned the cloaks ourselves.  We decided to go to the raider's actual lair and capture the rest of them.  We left five of the raiders, but took the talkative one with the tattoo with us.  I bribed the pseudo-dragon to guard the other five, and to sting anyone who tired to get away, playing up to the creature's ego to make certain that he would want to keep his attention on the task.  Then, we took the riders' horses…thank the goddess there were only five, so I was "forced" to walk and headed off, following the Zhent's directions.  I warned him not to play us false…if he did, he would suffer before dying…and I vowed that he would live…at least until we turned him over to the authorities, and then his fate would be none of my affair.  After all, as I've said before, I don't mind thieves, but I despise killers.  And I knew that these raiders were killers, whereas I had no proof that the drow were…despite the fact that I suspected they were probably rotten anyhow.

            He led us to the top of a hill, and activated a portal.  We were whisked away, by magical means and arrived a few moments later just outside the wall of a small keep atop a stone plateau, of sorts.  I had a feeling that we were rather high up, but I refused to let it bother me.  The wind was really whipping.  There was a high wall, and a bridge before us, with two sets of sentries up in the battlements.  They called down as we approached.

            "Who goes there?"  Durand replied.

            "We're returning from a raid."  The sentries…obviously not of the highest intelligence level, allowed us in, after taking a cursory look at us.  They apparently didn't notice that there were now seven where they'd been five.  What followed was a lot of sneakiness.  We went into the Zhentish camp. We asked our hostage how many men were in the camp, and he replied that he didn't know…that the only person who knew the exact number was their leader, a priest of Bane, named Suddaliss.  But, he did figure that the number was somewhere over 50.  That was a problem.  I knew that there was no way we could possibly take out 50 men.  Even if we just had the quietest people sneak up and kill them, there was sure to be a mistake made, a scream heard, and then it would be over.  We would lose in open combat.  Then, I got an idea that just might work, but I would definitely need the help of someone who had rational thinking capabilities during a fight, and a commanding voice.  That ruled out most of the party except for one.  I sighed.  Life is never easy.  I ran the idea past Durand, and he agreed.  If it worked, we would be able to capture most of the Zhents without having to kill anyone…and thus keep our reward at 100 gold, rather than the 25 we would get for the dead ones.  We turned to our hostage, who was being surprisingly cooperative…no doubt because Guar kept growling at him, and he held his life dear as most people do.  

            "Where is your leader, this Suddaliss?"  I asked.  

            "Well, he might be in his room, or he might be in the temple at the back of the main building."

            "Will he be alone?"  Durand asked.

            "I don't know.  Probably."  

            "Show us the way."  The man nodded.  We made our path over to the main building, and were stopped at the doors by a few guards, who wanted to know what our business was.  We replied that we were returning from a raid, and had important news that we had to give Suddaliss.  They didn't question us further, but let us pass.  We went by three more sets of guards within, using the same tale.  The interior of the building was dark and musty, lit only by torches that seemed magical in nature.  The air was a bit stale, as though there was little airflow through the building.  Finally, we were at the chapel.  Cautiously we entered.  The room was shaped liked an open-palm hand, with little alcoves at the tip of each finger.  Within each alcove there was a little stand, each holding items…a letter, a book, a chalice…no doubt things of the religion of Bane.  At first the chapel appeared to be empty, but then I felt something cold…and wholly evil within, just in the shadows.  Then we noticed that the door behind us was closed.  When …it emerged from the shadows, my first instinct was to bolt…but there was nowhere to go.  I stayed put, but didn't look up again after that first glance.  What I'd seen was a creature in the robes of a priest, with the same symbol of Bane that was on our arms.  Its face was shriveled, and pale…undead, with glowing lights in the eye sockets.  Evil rolled off of it like oil off water.  I felt sick.  I hardly remember now what was said, only that it…he? told us that he was responsible for one of the marks on our arms, that he'd been ordered to put them there and raise us.  He claimed that he would remove his mark once we'd gotten the other four removed.  He refused to give us the names of the other groups who'd been involved, the reasons why they done it, or how many more times we would lose control and try to assassinate some hapless soul again.  He did tell us to take the chalice that I'd seen earlier, that we would need it later on.  Kedra kept trying to badger the thing for more answer, until I noticed that it's flesh-stretched, skeletal hands were clenching in fury.  I yelled at her to shut up, and I guess she realized that maybe it would be a good idea.  When he was done talking, he stepped back into the shadows and vanished.  The door could once more be opened.  We all, gratefully, stumbled back into the hall.  The guards at the end gave us a curious look.

            "He's not in the chapel," I heard Durand explain to them.

            "You might want to check his room then," one of them suggested helpfully.  Our hostage, who had passed out in fear at the undead creature's appearance, had to be shaken awake.  He showed us the way to Suddaliss room.  Before we knocked, I warned Guar and Kedra and the others…especially Guar and Kedra, not to kill this man, that we needed him alive.  We knocked.  A muffled voice from within yelled,

            "Go away!"

            "Please, sir it's important!"  I replied.

            "Go…Away!!"

            "Sir," I insisted,  "This can't wait.  It's about the…"   The door was suddenly yanked open, a pudgy, brown haired, hook nosed, man wearing priestly robes stood there, his face red.  

            "What!?"  He demanded angrily.  I looked at Durand, Durand nodded.  We struck, punching the human in his face and gut.  Suddaliss stumbled back into the room, yelling, clutching his bloodied nose.  It only to a few more hits to incapacitate him, but that was enough time for the closest guards to come running, and send for help.  Guar and Kedra were in the hall keeping the guards at bay, trying their best to wound, but not kill.  I must admit they did a fair enough job.  Durand hauled up Suddaliss, and put a knife to his throat, and he and I went out into the hall, just as what must've been most of the camp was pouring into the hallway.  I used my rather loud voice.                                                 

            "Stop!  We have Suddaliss…your leader!  Stop now, or we kill him!"  Guar and Kedra stepped aside momentarily, and gave all of the Zhents a good view of Durand holding a knife on Suddaliss.  One woman, in heavy armor, seemed to be in charge.  I guess we were intimidating enough, and they believed our threat, and they cared enough for the life of their leader to want to keep him alive.  

            "Stop!"  The woman commanded.  All the Zhents obeyed the order, as though it were a god who'd done the ordering.

            "Drop your weapons!"  I yelled.  They complied, throwing down axes and sword and bows.  Just then there was a girlish-shriek from one of the side doors.  Guar charged in and killed the half-orc Zhent in the prison room, who'd apparently not heard the order, and was attacking Sinyalla, who'd foolishly wandered off during the fight.  Damn…out 75 gold.  We had Kedra and Guar go find some rope, while Sinyalla and Saldenon began to search the Zhents, looking for any hidden weapons.  Durand kept his hold on Suddaliss, and focused his attention on the task; since it was the only hold we had on the others.  Meanwhile, I sought out the woman whose name, I learned, was Captain Malvina.  She had a large ring of keys on her, which I took, then held my weapon on her, and marched into the prison room.  There were several small cells, each one containing people.  The first one had five humans in servant's livery in it.  They all looked rather beat up and tired.  Their eyes widened when they saw me holding a sword on the captain, saw the others come in.  We quickly unlocked their cell. 

            "Come out, we're here to rescue you.  Now, please stand aside," I asked them, as we began to stuff Zhent soldiers into the cell…all of them now stripped down to their basics.  The next cell contained a dark-skinned elven woman, and a light skinned elven male.  They'd been chained to the wall, each with just enough room to touch…or attack.  Neither seemed very happy, and was sitting as far away from the other as possible.  

            "Well, you'd be Inialos and Gwenect, then?"  They seemed surprised that I knew their names.

            "Your friends are looking for you both," I told them by way of explanation.  Inialos did not seem surprised, but Gwenect looked a bit skeptical.  We unlocked them and asked them to step aside as well.  They complied readily enough.  Then, another voice called out.                                              

            "I say, could you release me as well?  This cell is rather uncomfortable."  The voice was rather melodic, but had a bit of a scathing edge to it that I recognized as a symptom of a frequent user of sarcasm.  I turned to see another dark elf, alone in one of the cells.  This one was definitely male and put the other two I'd seen to shame.  He was, simply put, deliciously gorgeous.  I knew that I would have to "talk" with him later.

            "Hold on, I'm getting to you," I replied, as I searched through the keys to open the door.  

            "Why, Thank you," he said as I let him out.  "My name is Dazelin Coloara, and…" I put my finger to his lips.

            "In a few minutes, we'll talk, for now…"  I pointed over to where the other rescued were standing.  He nodded, and headed over.  I couldn't help myself…  I really tried to resist the urge…as he walked past me, I goosed him.  He turned, and raised his eyebrow, curiously, then kept walking.  He certainly didn't seem overly upset.  Excellent…  I noticed that he stood as far away from Gwenect as possible, and shot her a rather nasty look.  I guess they weren't friends.  The last captive proved to be a golden-haired, overly righteous paladin of a god named Helm.   He was rather relieved to be released as well, and vowed that he would watch over the Zhents while they were in the cells.  Once all of the Zhent's captives were out, we put the Zhents in.  There proved to be about sixty of them, so it was a rather tight fit.  We kept Suddaliss and the Captain bound, and in separate rooms, as we didn't want them to incite the others to mischief.  There was a bit of an incident upstairs, with Kedra and a gnomish blacksmith that had been forced to work for the Zhents.  Apparently Kedra had tried to pen a box that she'd thought held rope, only to find that the box had had a magical trap on it, which caused her to become blind.  Kedra had, of course, yelled and screamed and wanted to kill the gnome, and tried to get Guar to do it for her.  We sent Saldenon up to try to deal with it, but rather than be the voice of reason, as he usually was, he made it worse.  We finally manage to calm everyone down, though.  Then Durand, and I hammered out a plan.  Durand, Guar and, Kedra would take Suddaliss, and the first captive, and return, pick up the men we'd left at the 'Roost, and return to town to contact Dove, and the Riders of Ashabenford for help.  The rest of us would stay here, keep watch over our prisoners and be on our guard should any more Zhents show up unexpectedly.  We found out that we could not leave by the way we'd entered, but rather by some sort of portal.  Durand and the others left that very day.  For the rest of us, we spent out time gathering loot, sorting it, checking out every corner of the encampment to make certain that we hadn't missed anything, or anyone, and keeping watched in case anyone else showed up.  All in all, we spent ten days there.  I didn't really pay attention to what the others were doing, as I was far to busy with what…or, more accurately who, I was doing.  

            At the first opportunity I'd gotten when everything had calmed down a bit, I pulled Dazelin Coloara aside.  We found a nice quiet room inside one of the buildings, rather far away from where everyone else was.  He was much happier now that his things had been returned to him, a spellbook and a fiery dagger, which he'd said was a family heirloom.  He'd cleaned up, and found some fresh clothing to wear.  By the goddess, I wanted him.  I could hardly think to begin my seduction of him with a conversation.  So, in the end, I didn't bother.  I merely commented that he must be sore from being cooped up in the cell so long, and would he like it if I rubbed his back for him…then gave him my best suggestive grin.  He looked me up, and down.  Now, I may not be the best looking woman in the world, but I do know that men find me…intriguing, and that wearing clothing that shows off generous portions of skin was apt to make them even more interested.  Dazelin replied that a back rub would be a fine thing, and deftly unlaced his tunic and tugged it off.  His skin was amazing…the color of ebony and smooth as he finest silk I've ever touched.  Like myself, he too, had tattoos…although not nearly as many.  Bright bits of color on his ebony skin, I was amazed at how well done they were.  A few even rivaled Gull's best works on my own pale skin.   All but two of his were line-designs…the other two being a fiery dagger, and a mace destroying a spider, the latter on his shoulder.  I would be sure to ask about them later, but for now…  Needless to say that it didn't take long for the rest of his clothing, and mine as well to join the tunic on the floor. 

            Now, I won't go into details about sex with Dazelin, but put quite simply, his name was ever so appropriate…he was dazzling.  He knew things that I'd never even thought of, and has the most wondrously dexterous fingers on a man that I've ever seen, heard of, or felt.  And he was incredibly creative…it was probably the first time I'd ever had sex with a man, while in mid air…he used some sort of flying spell, seeing as he was a wizard of some power.  He was all too willing to take the cassil powder, as well.  We did talk, eventually…he told me a bit about the drow.  He was rather sarcastic about the whole thing, as though he gotten a great many questions before about what he was.  He did tell me that the majority of the drow race were, indeed, evil, and that they're hearts were as dark as their skin, and as dark as the spider goddess they worshipped.  His hatred of the spider goddess and her followers was the reason for the tattoo I'd noticed on his shoulder.  But, he amended, there were a few, like himself, who followed a good goddess, named Elistraee, who rejected the dark ways of the rest of their brethren.  He told me that he'd left the Underdark, and come to Ashabenford some 2o years earlier… that he was a friend to the Riders there, and occasionally helped them out.  He wondered why I'd not heard of the drow, and where I'd come from, so I told him…only the barest basics of my past, but went into more detail about current events.  He didn't seem to mind, for he, like myself, was more interested in the pleasure we could find with each other, rather than much talking.  To my surprise, I found that he wore me out.                

Dazelin hardly seemed to need any sleep.  He told me that light elves do not sleep, but do something else called reverie; and while dark elves sleep, they didn't need nearly as much as a normal person.  It was all very strange to me, yet at the same time, rather familiar…I squelched the familiar feeling before it could begin to hurt.

I asked him about his tattoos, being more of a trade discussion, although, I believe we were both naked when it began.  He said that the tattoos themselves were a hobby of his, but that he'd learned ways to magically enchant the inked skin designs.  I was interested enough to listen…I even thought about seeing what he could do with some of my own "art" once we got out of the Zhent camp.  He admired my tattoos as well and asked who'd done them…asked about the "unusual" knot work designs.  I told him that the knot work designs were popular in the Moonshaes, but skirted the question about Gull.  Predictably, conversation about the tattoos fell away to less talkative pursuits involving skin…

            I also made "friends" with the white skinned elf…a moon elf he called himself… Inialos.  Inialos had skin as fair as my own, light blue eyes, and long black hair which he attempted to keep back from his face in a pitiful excuse for a braid, that was constantly falling out.  It also might have had something to do with the fact that his hair was the same, silky texture of a child's, just like Dazelin's, for that matter.  He was rather nice to look at, and my same height, rather than Dazelin's much shorter frame.  As a lover, Inialos was just as easy to seduce as Dazelin had been, and while he was equally as dexterous, Inialos was not nearly as creative as his dark counter part.  And where Dazelin was not overly talkative, before, during, or after sex, unless I directly asked him something to get him going, I found that Inialos never shut up.  It wouldn't have been so bad, but for the fact that he was a ranger by profession and all he talked about was the woods and animals, and other mind-numbing subjects.  He told me the details of how to track a person, even while we were in middle of….well, never mind about what we were doing.  Suffice to say that I tried to keep my lips sealed on his as much as possible, seeing as kissing him was the only way to keep him quiet.  All the same though, I learned more about living in the wilderness than I believe I will ever need to know.  

Dazelin didn't seem to care that I was sleeping with both him and Inialos for the ten-day that we ended up being stuck at the Zhentish camp.  Inialos wondered what I saw in a dark elf, but didn't really complain beyond that.  My conversations with Inialos…when I could wrest the topic away from him talking about himself…focused mostly on the elven language.  I managed to confirm from him that the language I think in, the one I write in this very journal…the language that I'd wondered if I'd made up myself…was indeed elven.  He did tell me that my elven was very good, but that I spoke it as a child would.  He taught me new words and showed me how he spoke it, and I learned to mimic him, until he told me that I'd vastly improved.  So now I know that somehow, I must still remember some of my farthest past, for I could speak and write elven…a language that no one had ever identified for me on the Moonshaes.  And another thing I noticed was that my coloring…except for my hair, was very similar to Inialos'.  He told me that I was a half-moon elf.  I asked him if that bothered him, and he told me that he knew many half-elves, all good people, and that the creation of half-elves had become a way of life in recent decades, and no, it didn't bother him, for I was beautiful and willing.  At least he was honest, right?  He, too, took the cassil, no doubt to prevent the possible creation of another half-elf…don't get me wrong, I don't think he's prejudiced about my…race?… just that he doesn't want to create one of his own …which was fine with me.  Dazelin and Inialos were both nice enough men, but I certainly wouldn't want either of them to be the father of any kid I might have someday.

            Now, despite what you may be thinking, I did not spend the entire ten-day in bed with the two elves, much as I would've liked to.  I took my turn at guard duty, and cooking…shudder…  And I spoke with some of the other people there, as well.  I talked with Gwenect for a bit, getting her view on the whole dark elven thing.  Now Gwen is pretty much every inch the bitch that Dazelin said she was.  She was petty and nasty in a lot of her answers, but at least she talked freely enough.  I did get the jist that she thought about as little of her two bumbling compatriots as I did, if not less.  I think that on some level she thought I was a fool for releasing them, but a bit grateful that I did.  She chuckled, amused at the terms of their release.  And I found that we shared a common interest…men.  Apparently, dear Gwen had her eye out for Durand, and so was a bit unhappy that I'd sent him off.  Naturally, I had to disagree with her appraisal of the irritating noble, whom I certainly didn't trust any more now, with him being so cooperative, than I did before.  I thought Daz was far better looking, and no doubt had better skills and a better personality that His Lordship.  Gwen merely sneered, and told me that what you could have on any day of the week was not nearly as interesting as a delicacy…and handsome humans, like Durand, were quite rare in the woods.  I wished her the best of luck in her seduction of Durand, and warned her of his dislike of drow, and murderous intents towards anything of an evil bent.  She laughed, and muttered that the man didn't have to be willing or like it to be …useful.  I didn't reply, but thought to myself, while they didn't, they certainly were more fun when they're willing.  

            I also had a bit of a chat with the human paladin.  He was fairly good-looking, but steadfast in his guard duty, and dull as dirt.  He vowed that he would not sleep, and watch the Zhents himself, until help arrived.  I didn't think it was possible, but damned if he didn't.  He did talk a bit, though, and I learned that he followed the outlander god called Helm, and that Helm was some sort of lawful, incredibly stiff, noble, and dutiful god… after that, I stopped wondering how the paladin…his name was Kurud…managed to stay awake and alert the whole time.  It had to be sheer arrogance, in a mimicking tribute to his god.  So I learned a bit of outlander lore from the paladin.  

            The five other humans we rescued were servants to a man named Wolcott, in Ashabenford.  They'd apparently been taken a ten day ago, and were more than a little battered.  They weren't overly interesting, but they did tell me a bit about Ashabenford, such as places I might try selling the Zhentish loot at for the best prices, and the best places to get a drink, and so and so forth.

            On the second to last day we were there, an idea occurred to me, and I went to Daz to ask him about it.  I thought that since the tattoo was obviously magical in nature, that perhaps a magic spell could remove it.  He did say that there was such a spell, called Dispel Magic, and that he would have a try at it.  But he warned me that if the power level of the person, or people who'd cast it was higher than his own, then the spell might not work.  I described to him the creature we'd met below, in the temple of Bane, and he put a name to it: a lich.  A lich, he told me, was basically an undead wizard, who used a powerful, evil spell to keep itself alive, and continue using its own powers, and keep its own free will and sentience. They were said to very powerful.  The whole idea creeped me out…I really don't like undead…I don't know if I mentioned that before.  The whole idea of undead is wholly unnatural…blame it on being raised in a church, I suppose.  In any case, Daz tried his spell.  To put it mildly, it failed…miserably. As he started chanting the arcane words of magic that I could make no sense of, my arm began to burn as though set ablaze.  I dropped to my knees, shouting out my agony…at least this time I could shout.  Daz collapsed, across from me, moaning in pain as well.  Apparently, whatever spell had been used to put the tattoos there had safeguards built into it to prevent any kind of Dispelling spell being used, he told me when we were both able to move again.          

            Finally, exactly ten days from the time they'd left, the others returned, with about 30 or so of the Riders of Ashabenford, and an ugly, miserable little wizard, who reminded me of Saldenon.  In fact, when Saldenon saw him, he promptly got an attitude, and asked the other if he was a tiefling.  The other wizard, apparently another resident of Ashabenford who occasionally helped out the Riders, growled, muttered "yes", and the two avoided each other for the duration of the trip.  It took less than an hour for all of us to round up the Zhents.  I had, quite intelligently I might add, had the odd little gnomish black smith busy making leg shackles the whole time…partially to keep him out of the way, and partially because I thought we would need them.  We shackled up the Zhents, loaded up all our loot, did one last sweep of the place, then returned to civilization again, by way of the portal.  As soon as we arrived in the wooded area where the portal lead, both Gwen and Inialos took off, headed in opposite direction.  I got a wave and a wink from Inialos, and not so much as a smile from Gwen as they left.  The rest of us made our slow way to Ashabenford.  Once in town, the Riders went to the local jail to have a place to put the Zhents.  I didn't ask what they would do with them.  They said that it would take a little while to get our reward gathered up.  I told them we were in no hurry, at the moment.  I guess by doing the job, and doing it rather well, we were temporarily vindicated, for they treated us like comrades, not like enemies.  Kurud respectfully took his leave, saying he had to report back to his church.  The five servants of Lord Wolcott left as well, taking one of the warhorses, a "spirited" creature called Axle, with them, as they said he belonged to Lord Wolcott.  Dazelin drew me aside, and gave me directions to his home, which was on the north end of Ashabenford, and told me that, business or pleasure, I had an open invitation to come visit him.  I winked, kissed him soundly, and assured him that I would.  

            Then it was down, once again to just the party members. Kedra's blindness had been healed by the clerics of the church of Tempus.  Seeing as most of what we'd taken from the Zhents was trade goods and weapons, we first stopped at the barracks of the Riders.  They were quite happy to take a good portion of the weapons and armor off our hands for a fair price.  The trade goods we managed to sell at an imports store run by a half-elven man.  It was practically robbery, I tell you, how much he underpaid us, but since he was the only one in the area willing to buy, we had no other options.  Since there was a great deal of axes and metal armor left, we gave it all to Kedra to take to the dwarven town of Glen, to sell.  Since it would take her at least a few days to complete the trip, the sale, and some other business she didn't elaborate on, it gave the rest of the party that much leisure time.  

Durand, Saldenon, and Sinyalla decided to go up to a place called Shadowdale, searching for magical items.  Frankly, I didn't really want to be in their company for the three days that their trip would take, and I didn't really need anything magical to assist me, so I made myself scarce, in case they wished to invite me along.  I know that Guar headed off to the temple of Tempus again, no doubt to increase his priestly abilities through prayer.  So I had the next couple of days to myself…and a great many things to do.

            First, I stopped at the general store, purchased 20 glass, pint jars, a potion case to carry them in, three smokesticks, and bunch of small leather pouches.  We'd already divvied up the money we'd gotten from the Zhent thing, and once Kedra and the reward came through, I would be richer than ever…so it was time to do something important.  I stopped up at Daz's house, and asked him if he had anything that would glow, like a candle that I didn't have to hold, wouldn't put out any heat, and wouldn't burn me.  He gave me a ring that glowed, just as I'd asked, asking why I wanted such a thing.  I told him, and he laughed, wished me good luck, and said to bring back the ring when I was done, and one jar as payment.  I agreed, had a short tumble with him, and then headed on my way out of town.  

            I made my way back towards Galath's Roost, stopping briefly at the dwarven town.  While there, I sought out the head of the townsfolk, the dwarf we'd met when we entered.  He seemed surprised to see me, even though he admitted that he'd heard what we'd done, how we'd defeated the Zhentarim raiders.  I handed him one of the leather pouches I'd bought.  He took it, felt the weight and peered in.

            "This be full of gold!"  he exclaimed.  Indeed, it was….1,200 gold pieces to be exact, which was about one third of all the money and goods I currently had.

            "You said that a lot of people had been robbed and hurt by the raiders, yes?"  I asked.  He nodded.

            "Then it is only fair that they receive some recompense for what they suffered.  Give the gold out to those who suffered raids…divide it as you will, since I'm sure you'd know better than I who needs it the most.  Being that you're a dwarf, and your folk are known to be honorable, I know that I can trust you with this task."  He gave the gold a look, and then gave me a look clearly stating that he thought I was crazy.  Dwarves are known to be fond of gold, and I'm sure he wondered why I was giving mine away, but I also knew that I could trust him to do as I'd asked…his honor would see to that.

            "Well enough then…there be a few human farmers, and few folks in town what've been hit the hardest…I'm sure they'll be glad of the help.  Now, who should I be saying is behind this charity?"  He asked, gruffly.  I smiled.                                        

            "Tell them that it is a gift from the Earthmother."  He looked confused.  I amended my statement.

            "Ah, you would call the Earthmother, Chauntea."  He nodded again.

            "Ye're an odd gurl, but I thank ye," he stated.  I merely nodded and walked off, and out of town, whistling happily.  I knew that he would tell them what I'd said, if asked, and I knew, too, that he would add what he willed about my description and such.  It didn't really bother me though…just so long as my name stayed my own while out doing good deeds…after all, I would never become an infamous thief in the realms if everyone thought that I just turned around and gave my ill-gotten gains away, right?  

From the dwarves, I headed straight back to Galath's Roost.  I sought out the little pseudo-dragon, who was happily up in his tree.  I gave over a handful of coins to him, as I'd promised, as a reward for guarding the Zhents, since I was certain that Durand had not bothered.  The little guy was ecstatic that I'd remembered him and given him the "shinies" as I'd promised.  He chattered at me for a bit, in his weird, empathic speech…his name was Rossal.  He didn't like Kedra, because she kept trying to catch him.  I told him that I thought that maybe Kedra wanted him for a pet, and he didn't seem to care for the idea.  

From there, I went down below, and back to the giant beehive.  I tossed one of the smoke sticks into the hive, and waited a few minutes before entered.  It worked perfectly.  All of the bees were gone, and quickly got to work.  I cut out a huge block of beeswax, as much as I could manage, and set it aside, then proceeded to fill the pints jars full of delectable honey.  I'd filled about 18 jars, by the light of the ring Daz had lent me, when the bees began to return.  Since I couldn't carry much more anyway, I decided not to waste the last two smokesticks, and head out.  I stopped by Rossal's tree one last time, and let the little guy dip some of his acorns into the honey.  He promptly went into raptures of happiness as he began to chow down.  I chuckled and went on my way.  

            Back in Ashabenford, I sold the beeswax for a pretty profit, and about half of the honey jars for a "sweet" price as well.  I went back up to Daz's house, gave him back the ring, which had proved mighty useful.  I asked him if there was anyway he could have another one like it made, and I would buy it.  He said that he couldn't do it himself, but would see what he could do about acquiring one.  Then, I gave him his jar of honey, as promised, and promptly showed him several incredibly sensual uses for the sweet, sticky, substance.  He was duly impressed, and even came up with an idea or two of his own.  

            From Daz's house, I went down to the inn, got cleaned up, and had a bit of a meal, then took another walk…this one in a more south and easterly direction.  I arrived at the Temple of the Golden Sheaf a few hours later…it only took that long because I had to wait for a damned ferry so I could cross the river.  I had with me a few priestly kinds of things that we couldn't sell in town.  I thought to sell them at the church, but naturally, I had more than one reason for wanting to go there. I still wanted to talk to the priest I'd met at the Shieldmeet festival…if he would even talk to me.  I had more than a few questions for him about the religion of Chauntea, the outlander gods, and the idea that the party members were possibly cursed or possessed.  And…he was rather cute…the two elves had been nice, but they were rather small, and short in stature…and I did like my large human men…and Andar certainly fit the bill…and he had seemed interested…

            So, I went in.  I didn't see Andar at first, but one of his fellow priests was nice enough to go and fetch him for me, after buying the items I'd gone there to sell.  Andar came out from one of the rooms at the side of the church a few moments later.  He looked as fine as he had the first time I'd seen him.  I have to give him credit…it only took him a moment to recognize me.  He did see a bit surprised to see me.  

            "Why, hello…Raine, isn't it?  I didn't expect to see you again."  

            "I know, but I have a few things I needed to talk to you about.  I'm sure you saw that whole…attack thing me and the others did…but believe me there's a tale behind it."

            "I thought that there would be.  I did see the…attack, but I noticed, as did some of the others there, that something was wrong.  It was your eyes, you see…when you and your friends were attacking, there was no expression on any of your faces, and your eyes were empty…like there was no one inside …and I knew that couldn't be right, since I'd spoken to you, and knew it to be untrue."  

            Andar was more than willing to have a talk with me.  He took me out to a bench in a fair sized garden behind the temple, where we wouldn't be bothered.  I started with all of the serious stuff first.  I told him the story, and what little I knew so far…about dying and awaking, and losing control.  I asked him if it was some kind of curse, or possession.  He cast some sort of priestly prayer, and when it was done, he told me that I was not possessed by any spirit… which ruled out the idea that the six dead priests we'd found had been killed for the purpose of possession.  And then, he told me that I was not cursed.  Now that I found strange, since I know damned well that I am…I can't believe that all the deaths in my life are coincidental.  Still, he didn't find anything…it makes me wondering if, perhaps the Earthmother…or Chauntea, as he called her, had some reason to hide the truth from me…which I couldn't really understand because she had saved me from death, after all, right?  I didn't comment on it to Andar, though…I'm obviously doomed to never know anything about the curse beyond what it does.  

            Once we got the serious stuff over, I moved on to the more interesting topics, openly beginning to flirt with the priest.  I asked Andar to tell me about the outlander gods and goddesses, and about the area we were in.  He was more than happy to oblige.  I learned that the outlanders have more gods than a Northman has hair on his ass.  They have gods for just about every facet of life…happiness, sadness, evil, magic, merchants, luck, fire, water, mischief, and stodginess…you name it, and there's a god to match.  I was amazed.  And Andar held all of that information in his pretty head, and recalled it without the slightest hesitation…still, for such a smart guy, it took him the better part of the afternoon to realize that I was flirting with him…and I wasn't being overly subtle.  I was practically sitting on his lap by the time he caught on.

            "…So…" I traced my finger down the side of his cheek, where there was a curious set of scars…three slashes, like a claw would make.  It didn't detract anything from his handsomeness, and certainly made him seem more… mysterious, I suppose.  They seemed like a good way to get the conversation moving towards a more…seductive direction, though. 

            "How did you come by these?"  I asked, staring into his warm golden brown eyes.

            "I was attacked by a panther when I was twelve," he replied, giving me a curious look.  I only had to look down at his robes to see that he was definitely interested.

            "That's awful…how far do the scars go?"  I trailed my finger down his neck, and onto his chest, as far as his robes would allow.

            "Um…they…what are you…?"  He actually blushed as I straddled his lap…it was so cute!  

            "Raine?"  he asked…I'm not sure what he wanted to hear me say…so I kissed him instead, as I'd been fantasizing about for hours.  He liked it…didn't pull away…his arms went around my waist, and he gripped me tightly as he began to kiss back.  Beneath me, he was harder than the wood the bench we were sitting on was made out of.  The kissing went on for a bit…he was a very nice kisser…not all sloppy or bruising like some of my past lovers.  He had fairly large hands, callused from working outside…they felt very nice on the skin of my back.  He started to move his hands further up my shirt, then he pulled away suddenly.

            "Wait…I…I'm not like this…I don't usually…um…"

            "Fuck?"  I supplied helpfully, running the my fingers along the edges of his ears…which I noticed then, were only a little less pointed than my own…there was obviously elf blood in him somewhere.  He shuddered a bit when I touched the points…hmm…  Despite his obvious pleasure at the sensual caress, he frowned at me.

            "…I don't usually _make love_ with women on a first date."

            "Well, we're not really on a date, so it doesn't count…"  I kissed his neck.  He pulled back.  

            "Raine, wait…shouldn't we slow down, a bit?"   I stilled, caught his eyes again.  

            "We can stop if you want, Andar…but consider this:  I'm an adventurer with some sort of odd spell on me.  I could die at any moment…I could leave now and be killed on the road back to town.  I once believed that it was better to take your time…but time can stop in a flash of lightning…with people like me…this moment is all I have for certain.  Tell me no, and I'll go."  I felt serious...old, even…I probably would've even left, had he asked me to…but he didn't.  He stared at me for a minute, watching me closely.  Then he nodded, as though he'd understood…realized something that I didn't…  He took off his robe, and spread it out on the grass, then he laid me down on the robe, and began to kiss me again.  We only exchanged a few more words that afternoon.  I asked him if he would take the cassil, but he refused…I didn't question him about it, or try to force him to…it was his right, just as not taking the nararoot was mine.  However, I did inform him that he would have to make certain that he spilled his seed outside of me…that I didn't really want to have a baby.  He vowed that he would.  Yeah, I know…pulling out isn't really the most fool-proof method in the world, but it's worked for me up to this point, and if the fates were willing…and maybe some help from that outlander luck goddess…it would work a little longer.

            I guess that part of the garden was rather well isolated, and when Andar had said that we wouldn't be bothered there, he'd meant it.  We stayed out there the rest of the afternoon, and into dusk.  Andar was just the kind of lover I liked best…big, strong, and full of stamina.  He may not have had the elves' creativity, or dexterity, but he more than made up for it with his size, and constitution.  Darkness began to fall, and he carried me inside, to his small room…the one he'd come out of when I'd arrived.  We continued our "conversation" within, by the light of candles and the moon.

            Andar was a rather manly kind of guy…he seemed to like to be in control of everything, which was fine by me…seeing as I knew who really had the power.  But what surprised me, was that when we were done, he actually wanted to talk, to hold me…rather than just grunt and fall asleep, like most "manly" men I've known.  He asked me about my life, my past, and spoke of his as well.  He told me that his mother had been a half elf…see I knew it was there…and that she died to protect him.  When he'd been wounded by the panther, his father had taken him to the temple and he'd decided to become priest.  He wanted to know all about Lady Emilia and Jael, and the church of the Earthmother.  He seemed genuinely saddened when I mentioned their fate.  I mentioned Gull, briefly, and my life as a thief.  He seemed rather pleased when he managed to "trick" me into admitting my profession.  For that, I didn't bother to try to clean up my stories any for him…didn't bother to mention that I usually gave away large portions of money to those who needed it, that I only robbed people who could afford the loss.  He pestered me about Gull, as well… perhaps more because I didn't really wish to speak about Gull, than because of anything else.  To avoid further conversation, that I wasn't really willing to answer, I closed my eyes, and pretended to be asleep.  After a while, I wasn't pretending anymore.  I have to admit, though…having a man's arms wrapped around you; being held in a warm embrace…it's about the best way to go to sleep.

            The next morning, I was rather sore…I told you he was good.  At first I thought that he was gone, and I sighed, but then he came in, dressed, and sickeningly cheerful considering how early it was.  He swooped down and gave me kiss, then hauled me out of bed.

            "Come on then…the whole day is before us, and there's lots to do…unless you have to leave?"  His eyes and tone asked the question.

            "Do you want me to go?'  I asked.  I vowed not to be hurt if he said yes… after all, it wasn't like he was important to me.

            "Of course not," he replied easily.  "I just thought that you might want to come out and help me with some of the field work, today, seeing as you were once a ward of the church."   I surprised myself when I agreed, especially since staying in bed for the rest of the day was a much nicer sounding prospect.  So, up I got, and took up a rake and hoe, and followed him out.  We ended up working a fallow field a few miles from the temple.  The work came back to me easily enough, but as it did, so to did my memories of Lady Emilia and the others.  My memories were beginning to fade…It's been so long that I have trouble remembering what their faces looked like…but being in that field, working alongside Andar, I could squint my eyes, and almost imagine that it was Jael…that I could hear the Lady's voice, humming as she worked.  I was angry at how much it hurt to remember, and cursed my faulty head for being so clear today.  And damn Andar, too, for trying to be nice and not a self-absorbed, small-head dominated…man!  

            It was a fine day, despite everything…warm and bright, but not so clear that my fair skin burned.  It was pretty hard work, but I felt better for doing it…assuaged a bit of my guilty conscience and polished up a bit of my tarnished soul, I guess.  Honest work…bah…  A few hours after noon and we were done for the day, or so Andar told me.  He hauled me down to a small inlet on the river, rather secluded thanks to a copse of trees that grew on the banks.  I do so love sex in the water…   We cleaned off the dirt and sweat, then went back up to the church, to Andar's room, for another "arousing" evening.  Andar liked honey just as much as Dazelin…

            I ended up staying three days at the church.  Andar managed to pry more out of me than I would've liked, but I always was a sucker for a pretty face…especially when half-drunk on holy wine.  But, I managed to learn quite a bit about those gods as well…I wonder if it was a fair trade?  

Andar pestered me about all my secrets…not they were really important secrets, mind you.  He kept trying to get me to take hair out of the braid, and was very persistent in trying to find out why I wouldn't let him do it.  I managed to hold onto that secret though.  I didn't want to tell him…or anyone else for that matter the reason I would never let any man see my hair down.  It goes back to the whole virgin thing.  Since I'm obviously not one, there are a few things I'm intent on saving for the man I marry…although at this point, marriage is more of a vague fantasy than any potential reality.  I figure, if the time eve comes, I can truthfully be able to tell my husband that he's the only one of all my lovers ever to see my hair down…you see?  Virgin hair instead of body…although I'm certain most men would rather have the former and not the latter.  So I let Andar play with my braid, but not take it down…and I held firm in my refusal to give a reason.  Andar's a nice guy, but he sure is persistent…not at all like Dazelin or Inialos.  No, Andar wasn't anything like Dazelin.  Daz didn't mind my flippant jests and sarcasm, for he could toss one back as quick I could think them up.  Andar, on the other, hand kept asking me what I really thought, or what I meant whenever I would say something designed to shock or annoy.  He was rather serious most of the time, it seemed, and I kept getting the feeling that he was trying to figure me out, for some reason.  He didn't get upset or anything when I told him I had to go, just had the good grace to accept it, and let me know that I would be welcome back at the church anytime.  I was glad of both, but had to remind myself once again, that no matter how nice the people I met now where, I can't ever let them get to close to me…I can't ever let anyone I like…like Dazelin and Andar, Kedra and Guar, and even the others, meet the same fate as everyone else from my past.  Never again…not even if it means being lonely for the rest of my life, and hurting those who come to care for me.  After all, better wounded that dead.   

I met back up with the others on the fifth day after they'd gone their own ways.  None of us were sure what to do next.  We had a fair portion of wealth, now, but no clue as to where we needed to go to begin the removal of the awful tattoos.  Fortunately, as fate and the goddess of Luck, Tymora, would have it, something to do came to us.  While we were having lunch at the tavern in Ashabenford, and small man, in servant's livery came up to us.  He informed us that he master, Handergath, had heard of us, thanks to our rout of the Zhentish camp, and had a job that he would like to hire us for.  We agreed to meet the man.  

            Handergath proved to be a wizard, so ancient and wrinkled, that he looked as though a fair breeze would carry him off in pieces.  Despite his obvious great age, though, his eyes were as bright and clear as a young man's.  He spun us a tale of a tower in the forest of Cormanthyr that had once been the home of his old uncle, Donerras Bladesmith.  Apparently old "Donerras" was something of a wizard himself, and used hi s magic to make fantastic, enspelled weapons and such.  The tower was abandoned now, and somewhere within was Donerras' spell book, a book with a metal cover and clasps.  Handergath wanted us to go get it for him, since he was too old and frail to do it himself.  I noticed that Guar was sniffing the air a great deal, while we were in there.  I breathed deeply, but didn't smell anything…not even food, which would've been nice.  He warned us that the tower might have creatures about it, considering that it was in the forest.  When he offered us each 100 gold up front, and more when we returned with the book, we decided to take the job.  After all, how hard could it be?

            I really have to stop asking stupid questions… how hard could it be?  Sigh.  It proved to be more than a minor pain in the ass, that's for sure and certain.  Once we got into the tower, the first thing we found were a whole bunch of men, dressed in dark garb, waiting for us.  We cleaned them up pretty quickly, but took a bit of damage in the process.  I suppose they could be construed as "creatures" if you asked the right person.  Then we noticed the tattoos on them…at least half of the mostly dead and a few unconscious louts, had a tattoo on them…a tattoo that matched the middle tattoo on our arms.  We quickly pried it out of them that they worked for something called the "Cult of the Dragon," and that the tattoo was a symbol of said cult.  Apparently this "Cult" worshipped dragons like gods…some people are just so damned weird!    

            They told us that their leader was downstairs, so we prepared for further battle and headed below.  Their leader only had one guard with him…and the leader looked strangely familiar…as though we'd already met him.  Then it hit me…take about 60 years of age and wrinkles off, and the leader looked exactly like the man who'd hired us…Handergath.  Guar began sniffing the air, and growled.  I knew that I had to be right.  The leader turned to us and attacked, opening with a volley of different magical spells.  Guar and Kedra went for the guard, while the rest of us concentrated on our "employer," who'd obviously set us up. A bit of pepper in his eyes momentarily blinded the wizard, making his spells less effective.  Then, when it appeared that he was trying to retreat, headed directly for a brazier in the next room; I used a tangle foot bag on him, stopping him dead in his tracks.  I hopped into the mess as well, but close enough to continue fighting.  A solid right to his jaw with the hilt of my cutlass stunned him long enough for me to tie the ropes about his arms and fingers…stopping him alive.  The guard, naturally, was dead.  

            The next bit of trouble came from the party.  They were all furious, naturally, and had murder on their mind.  Now, I knew that in order to find out what in the hells was going on, questioning was in order.  To that goal, I had to try to question the very uncooperative wizard, and keep the party members from slaughtering, or at the very least, torturing him.  Sigh.  Handergath wouldn't say anything except that he had, indeed, set us up, and that there was no spell book.  They'd all been sent here to kill us, and I got the idea that it had something to do with the tattoos and our failed attempt to assassinate Randle Morn.  Since he wasn't talking, I set upon an idea to get the answers I wanted, willing or nay.  While I dug in my potion bag, though, that rotten wizard managed to wiggle his hands free, and try another spell.  Before anything major could happen, I took a leap, and tackled his sorry, robed butt into the goo from the tangle foot bag, slamming his hands and fingers into it.  There was no way in the 9 hells that he could cast after that…at least not until the goo would dissolve in an hour or so.  I downed the potion, something I'd found in the Zhents' fort, and began to ask my question.  Mainly I wanted to know who was in charge of having the tattoos put on us…or at least the name of the person who would know that information, where their main camp was, and why he was running to brazier, since there was nothing odd about it, save that it was filled with an off white, sandy substance that none of us could identify.  He refused to answer, but in the end, his own thoughts gave him away, as the potion gave me the ability to hear the thoughts in his head.  So after asking him the name of his leader about twenty times, he finally thought it, even though he would not say it.  Shamour…it was uncannily familiar, like Lord Morn had been…I knew that he definitely had something big to do with the Cult symbol tattoo.  I learned from his mind that their camp was more of a city they'd taken over in the forest of Cormanthyr, and that the way to get there was by using the sand in the brazier, and throwing it at a large "drawing" on the wall in the same room.  Satisfied, I told the party what I'd learned, and got up off Handergath, just in time to hear Guar mumble about having to "make water", whipping it out, and aiming at the wizard.  Now, I was feeling a bit miffed at how we'd been betrayed, but I had the answers we needed, and there was no need to further humiliate, or torture the idiot.  So, I stopped Guar the quickest way I could think to…I grabbed hard, wrapped my fingers around his little…er…big friend, and yanked him over to the wall…Guar whimpered.

            "No Guar, bad.  We don't make water on people.  It isn't polite."  Guar merely nodded, and was so relieved when I released him, that he didn't even complain about it.  I heard someone behind me mutter about how they would never touch such a dirty body part…in less nice words than I'd've used, then heard Kedra exclaim, indignantly, that she 'd given Guar a bath just yesterday, and he was clean _everywhere_, thank you very much!   I'm beginning to wonder about those two…a dwarf and a half-orc…I shudder…doesn't seem possible, but maybe Kedra's a kinky lass.  I know even I'm not that daring, though.  

            We didn't go through the portal right away.  First, we checked around the rooms down there.  We discovered a hidden room that apparently Handergath hadn't found.  Within two books…a spell book, and a book entitled: _Donderras' Guide to Enchanting Blades_.  Apparently, Handergath's lie hadn't been quit a complete lie after all.  We then hauled all of the living men back to Ashabenford, where we promptly dropped them off with the Riders, at the jail.  When we told them that they were all working for the Cult of the Dragon, and had tried to kill us, the Riders seemed surprised.  They told us that they did know of the Cult, but hadn't thought that there were any active in the area.  We informed them otherwise, and told them that we were going to go and scout out a possible city full of them.  They wished us Tymora's favor…I guess that means luck in the outlands…but did not offer assistance.  I suppose that that's well enough, though, because it'll be easier to snoop around with a smaller group…even though in our case, smaller didn't really mean quieter. Before heading back, I made a quick stop at Dazelin's, and dragged him with us.  I wanted his wizardly opinion on the sand, the wall, and the picture of the city.  He didn't have much actual information about the area, because he hadn't grown up here, but rather in someplace called the Underdark, that's underground, somewhere.  Andar, no doubt, would've known more, but I hadn't the time, nor the rest of the party, the patience to get him.  So we took Daz.  

            Dazelin proved to be little help.  He knew nothing of the city, or the magic used for the gate.  He did, however, "test" the gate by throwing some of the sand on it.  The picture began to glow, and suddenly, there was an opening like a cave in front of us.  There were a few minutes of heated arguments while we tried to decide what to do.  Thinking that this portal was perhaps like the one in the Zhent camp, we decided to go through, prepared or not.  Dazelin agreed to take to horses back to Ashabenford…yes, even I have a horse, though by the gods, I don't ride it…I just keep it to carry the heavy shit.  We're building up a fine friendship, that horse and me…as long as we both keep our feet on the ground, and I feed it, we're both happy.

            Directly beyond the darkness, the cave opened up into a larger room, obviously a shrine of sorts.  Continual flame torches burned in sconces on the walls, and a pool of water covered up roughly a third of the space.  The statue of a regal looking woman stood near the far wall.  All around there were patches of luminescent moss.  There was no one in the shrine, which was to a goddess named Mystra, so Durand stated, so we went out.  We promptly got into a fight with a few more of the Cultists…sentries, no doubt.  We killed all but one, that one kept alive for questioning.  We did notice something weird though… some of the Cultists, while human seeming, had strange scales and such growing on their skin. 

            We questioned the one little cultist, and he told us a bit, but not much, for he didn't really know much.  He told us that down the path, was the Tower of Bones, and that while he didn't know where Shamour was, there were wizards and clerics in the tower who surely would.  He said that the scaliness we'd noted was some sort of strange effect caused by the magic of the forest around the city…that he didn't know why it was happening, only that it did.  He added that there was some digging going on, and the Zhents were looking for something magical in the crypts, but he wasn't sure what…only that it was important.  We tied him up, since he'd been so cooperative, and hid him in the shrine.   We scavenged the cloaks and such from the Cultists and put them on, thinking to use the same disguise plan as we had with the Zhentarim. Then we headed on our way down the path towards the river, where we would find the tower.  

            Suddenly, a voice from the shadows and bushes called out, 

            "What in the nine hells are you doing?  If you go marching out there, the Cultists will kill you!  Come over here, and we'll talk."   Since it sounded like only one person, and we really were headed into danger blind, we decided that it could hurt too much to see what the person had to say.  The person turned out to be a gnome…I still think gnomes are odd looking…like dwarves and halflings and human and elves all in one, though I doubt any gnome worth his salt would be happy with my assessment.  He was dressed in a dark cloak, and leather armor, and I instantly recognized him as a fellow "tradesman."  He told us that he and his brother, Robalend had been scavenging items from the city…I wonder if this damned city has a name…when the Cultists arrived and began digging in the tombs in the cemetery in the western part of the city.  He said that the Cultists started bringing in all sorts of undead guards and such that were patrolling the city, and that they were obviously up to no good.  Then, his brother was captured by the Cultists a day ago, and was being held in the Tower of Bones.  The gnome…his name was Tarbash…feared that the Cultists were going to kill his brother, and asked us to help him.  We couldn't really refuse, since we were going up into the Tower of Bones anyhow.  He told us that if we helped, he would share all the information he and his brother knew about the city…and that was reward enough.  Tarbash also told us that he had some magic items he was willing to sell…I wasn't interested, but the others were.   Only Sinyalla bought anything…a scroll with a fireball spell on it, which is strange, because I don't think that she can use magic.  I do know the basics of using scrolls and such, as it was something Gull had taught me…but I'm not really good at it, and save the few spell scrolls I have for use as a last resort.  I suppose they'd probably be more useful to me as gold in the pocket, but…well, one never knows.  

            Tarbash pointed out the way, even though we already knew it, and claimed he would meet us inside, that he had his own way in…a way that we were all too big for.  No one argued.  So we made out way to the Tower of Bones.  As we walked up, we saw that the Tower was indeed, built in the middle of a graveyard, with small graves, and larger Cairns scattered about. There were small clusters of people digging in some of the graves, but they did not look up as we passed… I guess our disguises were working.  We made our way straight to the tower, and went in.  We were stopped in the entryway by a set of guards, one of the obviously of a wizardly bent.  They asked us what we were doing here.  I told them, in my best bluffing voice, that Shamour had sent us here to pick something up, implying that whatever it was, was none of their business.  It worked, not only with the first set, but also with all of the successive sets of sentries we passed on our way up.  We finally made it to the rooftop.  A robed Cultist stood next to a stone altar, upon which was shackled a very frightened looking gnome.  Nearby, there were 8 zombies, their throats slit, so fresh that the blood leaking out was still red…they couldn't have been killed and reanimated more than ten minutes previous to our arrival.  The priest…for that was what he obviously was, turned to us…and I knew our trick would not work on him, for he was obviously the one in charge in this tower.  

            "No mere guards would be fool enough to come up without my permission…so you must be intruders, then.  While the Lord of the Forsaken Crypt does not mind your interruption, I think he would be better served if we added you to our collection.  Praise the dragon!"  The zombies turned and began to shamble towards us, and the lone living human guards brought up his weapons.  The priest began to cast, chanting a dark prayer to a, no doubt, equally as dark god.  Suddenly, another voice called out.

            "Praise this, you death-loving freak!"  Then, from the shadows, I saw Tarbash step forward, and hurl a flaming flask towards the cultists.  It erupted in a wash of liquid fire.   The battle began in earnest.  I headed straight for the main priest, as did Saldenon and Durand.  I didn't see her, so I didn't know what Sinyalla was up to, and I heard Guar having a go with the living guard, Kendra hacking away at dead corpses.  

            I'm not a good one for writing down every slash of a sword, every action taken in battle…hells, half the time I don't even remember what I did in a battle.  I do know that I gave that priest several good slices, but he dodged any of the ones that would have seriously incapacitated him.  He managed to cast another prayer, and a wave of doom swept over us in a flash, then it was gone again, and me left gasping with pain at the feel of evil.  The zombies seemed to rally a bit, and combined their efforts to grapple Kedra and attempt to pitch her off the side.  Fortunately, Guar took down the live guard, and when to the dwarf girl's aid.  Meanwhile, I struck a nasty hit to the priest's side.  He chanted again, and his hand began to glow.  He touched my should, hardly more than a graze, but such pain shot into me that I dropped to my knees.  He held on a moment longer, and then the fight was over for me, as I lost consciousness.  I can't really say what happened after that, only that I knew I was near death.  I could almost see that light, gray, place again…knew that I was standing at the threshold of death, and that if I took one more step, It would be over for me…again.  I could've done it.  It would've saved me a great heap of trouble, I assume…but I decided to wait a bit…to see what would happen.  Not surprisingly, I was dragged back to consciousness, and away from the edge a moment or two later, as one of my party members must've healed me.  I felt like shit, and I could hardly move until I managed to down a potion of healing.  So, then I looked around, saw that the priest was dead, as were all the zombies.  The gnome was freed, and Durand was standing by the stairs heading up, for the sound of rallying voices came from below.  I had yet another potion, and felt steady enough to rejoin battle.  Suddenly, from below a black beam of energy shot up and hit Durand square in the chest.  He went down wheezing, and hacking.  Tarbash and brother managed to get the human noble out of the way just in time, as more Cultists charged up the stairs to their death.  Simply put, I do believe we ended up fighting most of the residents of the damned tower.  Our strategy was to let most of the straight fighters up top with us and let Kedra and Guar have a go at them.  Guar went down once, but a potion neatly revived him.  Saldenon and I went down the stairs and took the fight to the spell casters.  The more powerful one was a woman with claw bracers on.  I slashed her face once, and it hardly seemed to faze her.  She cast spells and when they hit me, they seemed to drain the very life from me; all the while she seemed to heal.  Damned vampiric bitch! I fixed her good, though.  Tired of her casting, I stopped the spells the only way I knew how.  I grabbed hold of her bracer, and with a mighty strike, drove my cutlass into her arm, half severing it.  I probably would've gotten all the way through, had it not been for the bones.  Then, I went to "sleep" again, as a volley of those damned glowing energy balls shot from the fingers of one of the other mages and connected with me.  I woke up again a few minutes later, by the use of another potion, given to me by Sal.  The mages, but for one, were dead…including that one bitch…she looked as though she'd been mauled by a bear.  Kicking the corpse in the ribs hard enough to hear a crack only gave me a little satisfaction.  

            We'd taken quite a beating, but we won…we'd defeated all those in the tower, but, however, if any had gotten away, there was a chance that the rest of the Cultists might've been warned about the trouble.  

            We quickly found out that Durand was out for the count.  Whatever had hit him had made him violently ill and feverish.  He would need more healing than we could give him at the moment, and there was no way we yet knew of to take him back to the temples by Ashabenford.  So the gnomes agreed to take him back to the shrine of Mystra and take care of him, until we returned.  

            With the help of the one wizard, that Sinyalla had somehow charmed, we looted the Tower, searching for anything that could help us, including information.  We did learn, from him, that the Cultists were searching for something in a specific crypt, but that they needed a key to get in, and that the key was what everyone was currently looking for. Though we searched the whole tower, and found quite a bit in the way of treasure, we found no key…not even a reference to a key.  We did have to kill a few more Cultists who apparently hadn't bothered to join the rooftop brawl…including one nasty fellow who'd just finished skinning some sort of humanoid creature in a room that looked distinctly like a torture chamber.  In the priest's room, we ran across a huge badger, but I dealt with it easily enough, by opening up a jar of honey, and setting it down.  The badger cheerfully went to work on the honey, leaving us free to explore with out having to go through yet another fight.    The first thing I noticed was a tapestry depicting and evil, gaunt looking woman, sacrificing a handsome man on an altar, with hordes of undead standing around.  Naturally, I didn't like the tapestry at all.

"Damned waste of a fine looking man, " I muttered.  I vaguely knew of the concept of sacrificing lives to gods, but it seemed alien and foreign to me, and turned my stomach.  Not even Tempus, for all his many faults condoned sacrifices, or deaths beyond what was found in "honorable" battle.  We found a secret cubby hole in the room which contained a yellowed scroll, written in some form of elven that none of us could read, a page torn from a book, that glowed a bit, a stoppered bottle, 3 platinum ingots, an uncut diamond, a journal and a pearl.  The journal appeared to be the priest's journal, but we decided that this was not the best place to read it.  We decided to wait a bit.  I got the feeling that some of the things were important, but none of us could figure out how.  

Finally, we'd checked out the whole tower, to no avail.  Our charmed mage told us that all of the important stuff happened at the castle of Cormanthyr, which was where we could find Shamour, as well.  We decided to head that way next.  We tied up the mage, for the spell on him would no doubt be wearing off soon.  I slung him over my shoulder, and we made to go out, and head back to the shrine, when suddenly, I caught a strange scent...a flowery smell that reminded me of…something…the headache came up faster that the current of a flooded river.  I dropped to my knees, helpless…: Shit…bad timing: was my last thought, as the haze of agony forced the consciousness from my mind…forced my eyes shut.  I began to scream…

            I wasn't too certain how long the "episode" lasted, only that the sun was far lower in the sky than it had been earlier, when I awoke.  My head hurt like hangover after a night of drinking 2 silver rotgut at the cheapest tavern in Caer Callidyrr.  I felt a large bruise on my face, and a lump forming on the same side of my head.  Either one of mysterious bruises had occurred again, or one of the party members had hit me to try to shut me up.  I suspected the latter, seeing as the pain radius was about equal to the side of Guar's hand…

            I sat up gingerly…no other pains evident.  I looked around to take stock of my surroundings.  We were back in the shrine, where we'd entered the city.  Durand was lying on a pallet neck to the pool.  His face was still red and blotchy from whatever illness had struck him down, but the skin underneath no longer appeared unhealthily ashen.  I saw that the whole party was there as well, scattered about the cave, sleeping in bedrolls, even though it wasn't night.  I would've loved to know how any of them had managed to fall asleep with me screaming…but Sal was an odd one…Sinyalla, too…and Guar was rather noisy himself, so I imagined that if his people were anything like himself, he'd learned to sleep through noise.  The two gnomes were there as well.  They, at least had cloth wrapped around their heads.  Kedra was the only one awake…standing guard, I suppose.  Our captured wizard was unconscious in the corner, alongside the guards we'd caught earlier.  I ignored Kedra, feeling rather surly.  When they all woke up I was certain that explanations were going to be demanded, and I had no intentions of giving one…not that I could in any event, anyhow.  Thinking to quietly kill some time, I pulled out the journal that we'd found earlier, and took a swig from my flask of whiskey.  The drink took care of the headache caused from the bruise, but did nothing for the headache I gave myself trying to puzzle through the mad rantings of that book, trying to glean any useful information from it.  There did prove to be a few things that might potentially be significant.  The journal belonged to the high priests, Ryngoth…the now deceased Ryngoth.  He was, apparently some sort of "Red Wizard of Thay," as well as a priest, and the badger we'd found was his familiar, "Zulkir."  He wrote that a woman named Kya Mordrayn was in charge of the Cultists stationed in Myth Drannor, and that he, Ryngoth, was also under his command, had envied her position, and would have like to change her position to one that was beneath him…preferably on a bed, that is.    The Cult had apparently found "an invaluable source of magic power long hidden in the ruins of Myth Drannor."  Apparently the Cult planned to use the "magic" pool for some nefarious purpose involving dragons and someone named "Pelendralaar."  They'd learned that they could increase the pool's power by having it absorb magical items, and that they were searching through the crypts for said items.  I didn't particularly like the sound of magic pools and corruption…it reminded me of a story that Jael had told us about the Moonwell, and Bhaal… There was reference to the Cult tainting something called a "mythal," to better harness the pool's magic, and that was the reason for the scaliness of the city's inhabitants, who were apparently manifesting draconic-like forms.   The wizard/priest spoke of a dead magic zone near something called the "Irithlium," and how the Cult had been thus far, unable to negate the effects.  He mentioned that we were not the first band of adventurers who'd entered the city…but that the others who had, had been "for the most part" dispatched, and that soldiers of the Cult would soon find and eradicate the rest of the survivors.  I hoped that they'd failed in that endeavor…it would be nice to have some potential aid running around...or at least a distraction.  The final entry spoke of items found in a crypt that dated back before the city's fall…one was a page ripped from some sort of good, holy book.  Apparently, old Ryngoth didn't care for that page, as he claimed it "sickening" and had tried to destroy it, without success.  I assumed that it was the torn page that we'd found with journal.  Maybe we could find the rest of the book and read it aloud to the Cultists and they we all drop over dead at the "sickening" goodness.  I laughed quietly at the thought, and shut the bloody journal.  I had another shot of whiskey…I needed after the fiasco of that awful journal.  

            About that time…roughly four hours or so after I'd awoken, the rest of the party…even Durand…began to stir.  Within a few minutes, they were all awake again.  Guar was groaning, and telling everyone to shut up.  I gathered that he had a hangover of sorts, from whatever he'd consumed to get to sleep.  :Good!:  I thought, viciously…serves him right for hitting me.  But, my unfortunate good nature took hold, and I offered him a drink of the Moonshaes' finest…aged more than two years in the flask.  Guar took it, chugged it down, and grimaced.  I guess he wasn't used to a drink that could peel the paint from walls with its vapors.  Kedra snatched the flask from Guar and availed herself of a healthy dose, and then complained loudly about it being a "weak" brew.  Dwarves!  They aren't happy with a drink…even if it is the best Moonshae rotgut I didn't bother to buy…unless it can melt steel like acid.  I took back my flask and hid it away.  No sense in being overly charitable.  His Lordship and I exchanged a few verbal stilettos…nice to see that he was recovering so quickly…something to do with the healing properties of the water of the shrine, we guessed.  Still, and all, I took great joy in reminding him that his face…of which he was rather proud…looked as though he'd rolled in a patch of poison ivy.  

            It was Saldenon who finally confronted me.

            "What happened?"  He demanded.  "You were screaming like the demons of the 9 hells had hold of you."  He narrowed his creepy eyes at me.  I think he was wondering if I was a real banshee in disguise…that would've at least made things easy, but no…   I wasn't feeling particularly cooperative at the moment, not after three different types of headaches in a row.  And I particularly disliked the promise of a coming inquisition.  I shrugged.

            "I'm possessed," I replied with a grin.  He gave me a skeptical eyebrow-raise.

            "Maybe you are too," I added, even though I knew my coming words to be false.  "Think about it…there were 6 dead men, and 6 of us, and us not able to control our actions.  It could be just magic…or maybe were all possessed."  I winked at Sal.  He grumbled something about how he'd know if he was possessed by demons.

            "I didn't say anything about a demon, " I stated.  I'd noticed that Sal seemed rather preoccupied with hells, and demons…and there were those hoofs of his that he thought the rest of the party didn't know about…

            "Why are you so bothered by demons, Sal?"  He muttered something indistinct.

            "And what's a tiefling?"  I continued.  He seemed startled by that query, but only momentarily.

            "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.  I let it be…I had my secrets, and I guess he had his.  I'd ask Daz and Andar about the word later…maybe they'd have some insight.  I'd thought I'd suitably steered the subject clear of me, but I was wrong…as usual.

            "Why you scream?"  Guar demanded.  I shrugged…it wasn't like a had an answer…and I wasn't about to submit a description of my dream…which incidentally, I'd had again…only this time the person on the other side had seemed clearer than ever…for the party to ridicule.

            "What should we do the next time you start screaming?"  Saldenon sneered.  I was amazed that His Lordship wasn't getting into it, but I recalled that he, too, was unconscious at the time.  No matter, it seemed that Saldenon had more than happily taken Durand's place for the moment.  Irritated, I snapped,

            "Cast a silence spell on me and dump me at church…that's what everyone else does."  I know it wasn't quite true, but I figured it would be sage advice for the party.  I didn't really want to trust myself to their care anyhow.  Priests…real ones, and not the Guars and Durands of the world, were probably mildly better equipped to deal with me anyhow.  Maybe I would warn Andar of my "problem" and inform them to take me to the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf.  At least that way I could wake up to a pleasant face…except that I didn't really want Andar to know how truly fucked up I am.

            "And what if we have no spells…can we silence you in other ways?"  Sal asked, cracking his knuckles, ominously.

            "Do whatever the hells you want…it's not like I could stop you," I bit out.  Geez…what the hells had I done to get his ass so riled?  

            Refusing to go on with the conversation, which was getting us nowhere, I turned to the gnomes, and handed over the piece of parchment we'd found, but could not read.  Tarbash couldn't read it, but his brother could.  The scroll was written in ancient elven, and referred to the creation of runes and words of power to secure important portals against invasion.  The runes would prevent great treasures from falling into enemy hands.  The author specifically mentioned two runes…the rune of the stars, and the rune of the sun.  The two runes protected powerful items, and respected individuals' in the Polyandrium.  

            I spoke of what I'd read in the journal.  That information, coupled with what was on the scroll determined our new destination.  We would try to seek out the two runes, and the items of power within the two crypts before the Cult did, and try to stop them from doing whatever they were up to.  I mentioned that if we could find our way to the top members of the Cult by thwarting them that we would probably meet up with Shamour.  I figured it would put things in perspective for the rest of the party, in case they wanted to have a self-oriented reason for doing this.  As much as I wanted the tattoo of the Cult gone from my arm, I wasn't about to let what the Cult was doing go unchecked.  If that meant looking for more trouble than was necessary, so be it.  I wasn't really certain what was going on only that it was bad.  Jael's story of the Moonwell was well ingrained in me…I didn't know if this "pool" was anything similar, but it sounded powerful.  And any power in the hands of people evil enough create zombies as slaves, and crazy enough to worship dragons, had to be removed.  It was only right…and I would not renege on my vows…I would make Lady Emilia proud…I would defeat these Cultists to protect others…those in the communities surrounding this forest who would suffer for the evil being done here…and I would do it without regard for my life…which would be nothing if I could not keep my promises.

            The gnomes agreed to guide us around the city…they had no love of the Cult, and felt they owed us for our aid.  They showed us through the Polyandrium, and to the crypts.  We avoided the crypts that looked to have been already looted, or had any activity near them.  The first one we came to was a crypt sealed with a rune of the wolf.  We found the rune next to the door, a scrap of a paper with the command word alongside it.  On the door itself, was a chalked warning…"Dangerous!  Wait until Shamour is available!"  The sight of that name alone would've prompted us to enter the crypt, dangerous or no.  We figured that if it was dangerous, it was powerful, and so, removing it from the Cultists now, would be advantageous.  In we went.  The door opened easily since we hand possession of the rune.  Stairs led below, and opened into a rectangular chamber, with statues of elven warriors within.  We bumbled right into the first traps…At least, I did.  I avoided the firetrap, but ran right into the spear one.  After the spear pierced my leg, I noticed that it was coated with a greenish substance.  Poison, of course.  Thankfully, I remembered that one of the effects of the chalice we'd taken from the Zhents was its ability to neutralize poisons.  I poured a bit of water in and drank it down, quickly, after removing the spear.  The burning sensation that was beginning to spread through my leg vanished.   I breathed a sigh of relief, and pointed out what to avoid to the others.  We moved onward.  We found some tapestries, which we took, after a moment's hesitation.  Saldenon took the opportunity to try to insult me.

            "What's the matter, Banshee?  I thought you liked robbing the dead?"

            "I do," I replied quickly enough.  "It's not like they need it…it's just the prospect of undead that bothers me."  Saldenon shut up…thankfully, as I was seriously considering what kind of damage I could do to him without doing it directly, to avoid the tattoos'  "safeguards."

            We found a trapped sarcophagus in one room that Durand and I wound up opening.  I got a good lungful of the greenish gas that came out, and ended up hacking and wheezing for the next few minutes.  Even after I'd cleared my lungs, I didn't feel so hot.  

            In a room, thick with the scent of dead flowers, we found another coffin, and six ceramic jars.  There were elven engravings all over the coffin.  They read "Honored Kesefehon, great warrior, exemplar of his race, we shall never forget him."  Within the sarcophagus was the dead body of an elf, with a sword and breastplate, both with the same wolf insignia as the front door.  As we went to remove his stuff, the body got up, and attacked with a roar.  Lighting a torch, I lit the body on fire, while the others beat on the creature.  I really dislike undead…we managed to kill it, but only after it had done a good bit of damage.  After we took the sword and breastplate, we left, as that was all there was to the crypt.  Sigh. 

            We moved onto another crypt…but it was locked, and there was no rune with it.  By the star symbol on the door, we knew it was one of the crypts we were looking for.  It hadn't yet been opened, which was a good thing.  We continued on, to search another crypt, in order to find the rune of the stars.

            The nest crypt was blocked by pieces of a broken statue of a mounted human man.  Guar easily moved them.  The door was propped open by a stone, and as we searched the crypt, we discovered that another group of adventurers...not Cultists…had already been in the crypt, but had died inside.  The lower levels of the crypt proved to be flooded by two feet.  We ended up fighting a bunch of undead...skeletons, mostly, and a bunch of two-foot tall elven statues that animated and attacked after Durand grabbed a sword from a pedestal in the center of the room.  We ended up finding two other long swords …two of the three ended up being keys to a huge door inside the crypt.  In the same room as the door, we found the bodies of the adventurers, long dead, and looted them.  One of them…an elf had a book, which, like the page we'd found in the cleric's room, had a sun symbol on it.  Upon sticking the page in the book, I discovered that it had been torn out of the book.  I laughed to myself.  Maybe my idea of boring the Cult to death with a book of goodness might work after all…if we could find the last missing page.  

              In the room beyond the door, were more dead people, who, unfortunately got up and attacked.  We had to have a healing potion break after that room.  Finally, we found the final crypt.  Inside was the body of a man, features still visible.  It was rather creepy.  The corpse was holding onto a rune stone, which proved to be the rune of stars, after we wrestled it out of his dead hands.

            We headed back out, but as soon as we cleared the front door, we found an ambush waiting for us.  There were a dozen Cult warriors and one wizard, who was grinning arrogantly.  They appeared to have been waiting for us.

            "Well, well..." the wizard began, no doubt about to roll into a speech of cocky evil.  We thwarted his plans when all of us bolted back down into the crypt.  The look of surprise on the wizard's face was classical.  Back in the tomb, as soon as we realized that they weren't going to follow us down, we came up with our "great plan."  We tossed about ideas of using magic and such, but settled on rushing the wizards, to preclude the use of spells on us, and then taking out the fighters as quickly as possible.    We didn't wait long, as we didn't want to give the Cultists time to get reinforcements.  

            Our idea worked better than we'd hoped.  The wizard went down in three attacks, as we killed him before he could get any protective spells up.  Unfortunately, at our quick success the warriors broke ranks and began to run.  We had to stalk them down, and kill, or knock them out.  We hid all of the bodies, dead and alive, in the crypt.  On the body of the wizard, we found two scrolls.  One was a drawing of the rune of stars, with the command word "venik-rhaa" written beneath it.  The other was a hastily scrawled letter.  It read,    

            "Nevessam-

            You must break the seal on the crypt of Rothilionas soon as possible.  The Wearers of the Purple grow anxious, and I have been told by Mordrayn that the phylactery has arrived for the contingent ceremony.  We shall soon have our hands on the items within the Crypt of Orbakh, so we may include them in the immersion ritual.  Take care, little brother, that you acquire the rune of the Sun soon, or Mordrayn and Peledralaar will be displeased.

            Oh, and I'm putting a pox on that pet that Ryngoth favors so much.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  -Shamour"

            So…we'd killed Shamour's brother?  I wonder if that would make the man who'd help mess with our lives...whoever he was, happy…hehehe.  We didn't understand what much of the letter was about.  The gnomes knew where the two crypts were…the first was the crypt of the star rune, where we were headed next.  It seemed likely that the rune of the sun was inside.  Sinyalla mentioned that the word "phylactery" had to do with liches…powerful undead that retained their intelligence…that a phylactery was an item in which a lich hid its soul.  Wonderful…I thought.   No one had any idea who the "Wearers of the Purple" were, though.

            Onward we went.  The crypt of the stars, or the crypt of Rothilion was in the north part of the Polyandrium.  Once we spoke the word and used the rune, a low rumbling noise began, growing louder until it was almost painful in intensity.  Finally, just as it began to hurt, the rumbling stopped leaving behind an eerie quiet.  The door opened suddenly, and with a thunderous crash.  A shining symbol, shaped liked a sun appeared between the open doors, and for a moment shone bright enough to burn.  It didn't harm any of us, though, and we entered as quickly as possible.  We knew there would be little enough time to find what we needed and escape before the Cultists, who had to have heard the noise, showed up to investigate.  

            On the floor directly inside the crypt was what could only be termed a warning.  It read, as best I can recall,

            "Here lies Rothilion the Honorable, Master Wizard and High Judge of Myth Drannor.  May all who seek it find his wisdom and kindness.  May all who would defile or destroy his legacy be cursed."  I guess that was our cue not to destroy anything…not that I had any intentions of destroying any part of Rothlion's legacy…although, if tempting enough, I might "relocate" it.  The first room we came into was a library.  Most of the books were in common, and so old that a touch seemed to crumble the pages to dust.  One whole shelf, I noticed, was filled with a set of books titled as the Chronicles of Rothilion.  I paged through a few of them, as the others were all doing, just to see what they were about.  Mostly they consisted of the writings of the Rothilion fellow.  They were, I suppose, his journals…not much different from this very one I'm now writing, only that there were hundreds of them.  I doubt that I shall ever be able to write down enough, or live long enough to blow as much wind as Rothilion did.  The last entry in the last book written in common was rather interesting …I don't really remember the details, but it was something to the effect that Rothilion forever gave up his ability to speak, write, or understand the common language in exchange for the knowledge of the elven mages who'd helped to build the city.  I thought that losing the language you've spoken all of your life was a harsh price to pay for information of any kind.  I mean, it wasn't like he'd learned anything that would save the world, his life, or the city…and in the case of the latter two, even if that's what he did learn, the knowledge failed him in the end, for the city was a ruin, and we were stalking through his crypt.  I wondered what information could possible be worth that loss…and if I ever had to choose between something important, and losing yet another irreplaceable chunk of my memory, which would I decide for?  It's not something I let myself think on for too long…unpleasantness and I being poor friends, though frequent acquaintances, and all that…

            In the back of that book, though, stuck just inside the cover, I made a discovery…I found the last missing page to the clericy book about Lathlander.  Hardly thinking about, I stuck the torn page back where it once was.  As I stuck the last page in I watched as the parchment rewove itself into the binding.  The book began to glow with a blinding light, that was a bit warm, sort of like the rising sun.  I nearly dropped the book, for fear that I'd set off some awful trap.  Whatever it was, though, I didn't think that the light was a bad thing.  For a moment, while watching it, I felt some of the stress and fatigue in my body ease…and it was almost as though we were being watched by some presence.  Then, as quickly as it had begun, the light vanished.  The book was back to being a plain book again, although it seemed as new as though it had just been bound.  The leather covered was green, I noticed for the first time, and was covered with small pieces of green jade, with a rosy hued  disk in the center…I think that was Lathlander's symbol…Lathlander being the outlander god of the morning, or something like that.  I glanced at the spine, and noticed that the book was titled the Testament of Jade.  I noticed the others looking at me…a few of them were glaring, as though I'd just set off a deadly trap that was now killing them.  I shrugged.  To the Hells with them anyhow…I had no idea that the book would behave in such an unbookish manner once reassembled.  It wasn't as though I'd summoned the wrath of Tempus down on us, did I?  I stuffed the book into my backpack.  Time enough to wonder what sort of magical traits the book possessed later.  Finding nothing else of interest in the library, we moved onward.

            It proved to be the last room in the crypt, which was surprisingly small, considering the fanfare we'd received upon entering.  The room had a high ceiling, and the walls were made of black stone with streaks of yellow throughout.  In the center of the room was a large stone coffin, no doubt old Rothilion himself.  We moved towards the coffin, intent on opening it, despite any traps, when the oddest looking creature I'd seen to date popped up from behind it.  

            Now, when I was growing up at the church in the Moonshaes, I'd stray often to the water.  I don't especially have an affinity for the water, but it is where I came from…the womb from which I was "born," so to speak, so I was interested in it.  Bedsides that, I found that sand is softer to fall on that stone or even dirt, when it comes to stumbling…of which I did a great deal of as a child.  Strange that I was so clumsy and uncoordinated then…and now, I can pick the pocket of the stingiest noble without overmuch effort.  Anyhow, I would explore the pools of water left behind by the outgoing tide, and occasionally I would find these tiny, little, squid.  They were usually about the size of my palm, pinkish-purple in hue, with one head, and bunch of little tentacles writhing out from it like points from a star.  This creature looked nothing so much as a human-looking person, only with a giant squid stuck on its shoulders where its head should've been.  The major difference between the squid I found and the squid creature before us…besides the size and the body, of course, was that this one was all shriveled and dry looking.  It looked to us, black eyes wide in shock.

            "The…door is open?"  It asked.  None of us answered…too shocked, I suppose at the creature's appearance.  

            "Open?!  At last!"  Then it bolted towards the open door behind us.  Now, if nothing else, I thought maybe we could get a bit of information out of this creature, so I slammed the door shut before it got there.  I guess it thought we were going to attack, because it cast a spell and summoned up a nasty looking wolf, which immediately set upon Durand, and Guar immediately set upon it.

            "Why do you want to escape?"  I shouted at it.

            "Because I've been trapped here for longer than I can recall…" it hissed, looking about for a way past us.

            "Let me go, and I shall give you treasure," it pleaded.

            "Now you're cooking with fire," I grinned.

            "Tell us where the rune of the sun is," I demanded.  The creature pointed to the sarcophagus.

            "In there…in a mahogany box.  Please…"

            "Is the box trapped, " I pressed.         

            "No…not trapped.  Let me out!"  I didn't see any harm in it…besides, it had answered…truthfully I hoped…and that wolf was really whaling away on Durand.  I opened the door.  Without a sideways glanced, the squid-thing dashed through the door, and disappeared down the corridor.  The wolf vanished a few moments later.  Durand was looking a bit worse for the wear.  

            We opened the lid of the sarcophagus, which was ridiculously heavy, requiring Guar, Durand, Kedra, and myself to lift it.  We would have asked Sal and Sinyalla, but frankly, they don't really seem strong enough to carry their own backpacks, sometimes.  The lid slid away to reveal the skeleton of a tall human, who was holding a long staff…get your mind out the gutters…not that kind of staff…and at his feet was the described box.  We took up the staff, which, though well made, did not seem very interesting beyond that, and opened the box.  There was no trap, and I was rather amazed that for once, I'd been told the truth…it was such a bloody rare occurrence.  Inside we found the rune of the sun, which looked just like the rune of the stars, only with suns on it instead.  There was a scroll with it, with a single word inscribed on it…the command word, no doubt.   In another locked chest that we found in the corner of the room, we found what must've been the creature's "treasure"… it proved to contain a scroll with a few spells on it that Kedra snatched up quickly, two emeralds that were rather nice…in size and value, and finally, a jade figurine, shaped liked the squid thing.  Not a bad haul, considering the lack of traps.

            We went back out…no Cultists waiting, just yet.  We shut the door behind us, hoping to slow down any potential pursuers by making them think that we'd not yet entered the crypt, or at least, were stuck inside.  The gnomes dragged us over to the crypt of the Sun, which was apparently actually called the crypt of Orbakh.  

            I expected a crypt of the sun to be beautiful...you know, covered with statues and trees and such.  What we walked up to was a crypt done in a motif of skulls and skeletons and other dead looking things.  The only sun was the rune on the door that matched the one on the stone.  Talk about weird…  The door open to our command without nearly as much fanfare as the previous crypt.  The stench of death and rot rolled out of the crypt like a wave of water, and left us momentarily reeling.  Stomachs lurching powerfully, we entered.  

            The crypt of Orbakh definitely took the prize for the weirdest, most disturbing crypt of them all.  The crypt was full of a myriad of different monsters…most of which I'd never seen or heard of the like before.  Here's the weird thing, though…all of the monsters were identical to each other, and all of them were naked as a newborn.  I don't really feel like going into detail about what went on in that crypt.  Suffice to say that we cleaned out much of the crypt, searching for…whatever the hell we were trying to find.  I found that shots to the groin area…seeing as most of the creatures were males…dropped the monsters far faster than any other type of hit…although I don't think that the men of the party appreciated my efficiency.  There were some things that were so disturbing, that we avoided them rather than fighting.  And one thing puzzled me the whole time…if this was a sealed crypt and there was no way in, save for the rune stone...how were these livings creatures getting inside, and on what were they subsisting on?  No one could think of an answer other than that, maybe there was another way into the crypt.

  Finally, we came upon the last room of the crypt.  There was stagnant, standing water covering the floor.  Continual light torches burned in the sconces, causing eerie reflections in the murky water.  A dais at the far end of the room held a stone sarcophagus…no doubt what we were searching for would be contained within.  Symbols and runes carved all about the room conveyed the meaning of death in many forms.  And in the center of the room, before the dais was the most bizarre scene I've ever scene in my entire life.  

            Half-submerged in the water was a rubbery sphere at least ten feet high and wide.  Tentacles lined with suckers shot out of the sphere at uneven intervals, intersped with smaller stalks…each with a single bulbous eye at the end.  One of the tentacles had a mouth at the end of it.  And, being held by one of the suckered tentacles was a bald, naked, man…exactly like one we'd run into earlier in the crypt, who'd attacked   The man spoke as we entered, but the words did not seem to match the movements of his lips.

"I am Famras, child and parent of Beautiful Flower.  She asks what you are doing here in her domain, and what you want.  I will not allow you to harm her.  We spoke with the things for a few moments.  It offered us the treasure in the sarcophagus in return for our allowing it to leave…like the squid thing…but unlike the squid thing, we all got the feeling that whatever this was, it was far more dangerous, and not something we should allow out to cause whatever havoc was going on in the crypt, in the outside world.  We let the creature think we'd agreed…let it move towards us...then we attacked.  Sinyalla concentrated on the bald, Famras, while the rest of us centered our attacks on "Beautiful Flower."  Ugly Blob would've been a much more appropriate name I thought, as I stabbed into the creature's rubbery hide with my cutlass.

The battle proved to be a tough one, with the creature flailing its tentacles, and trying to drag people under the water, but we were up to the task.  With so many of us attacking, it was difficult for "Beautiful Flower" to keep a bead on all of us, and so we prevailed.

Once Beautiful Flower became a dead "flower," we converged on the sarcophagus.  Within, we found a gold skull mask, a bunch of jewelry, a large piece of crystal in a cage made of precious metals, a strange mantle made of bone and wire, and an ivory scepter topped with a skull.  All very gruesome, although, none of it seemed to be overly important or magical in nature.  I was wrong, as usual.  

As soon as we'd lifted out the last item from the empty sarcophagus…I can only imagine what became of the body that'd been previously interred within…an image appeared before us, beginning as a distortion in the air, and solidifying into a semi-transparent image of a tall, impressive looking elf, with shriveled skin, and glowing eyes…still yet, another undead elf, I assumed.  He raised his hands in a symbol of peace, and carried no weapons, so we held ours.

            "I mean you no harm, " he told us.  "I am Molostroi, a baelnorn, undead guardian of this once great city.  I send this image to you, because you have touched Orbakh's ivory scepter, an evil item of power buried long ago in this crypt.  I am not here to warn you of its use, or coerce you to leave it in its place, but to ask you for help.   The Cult of the Dragon has discovered a pool of radiance within Myth Drannor, and used the power of the pool to corrupt the city's mythal.  Their ultimate goal is to immerse the dracolich Pelendralaar in the pool, magnifying his dread powers a hundredfold and allowing him to take control of the mythal, bending it to his own ends, and unleashing a flood of evil upon Faerun."  Now, I didn't really understand half of what that elf said…I didn't know what a mythal is, only that corruption is bad…but, I knew what a dracolich was.  When I had been living with Gull, strange things were happing all throughout the Moonshaes…there were horrible storms that were ravaging the islands and all anyone knew was that something evil was causing them.  It never mattered much to Gull or I since we had more important things to do that to worry about storms...like trying to survive when many people in the islands were starving and dying for lack of food caused by the storms.  At the end of the five–year period of storms, there was said to be a dracolich sighted in the skies over the Moonshaes.  Now I didn't see it myself, but enough people did that I had to believe the story was true.  A dracolich was an undead dragon of massive power…far beyond that of your average undead.  It was the only thing I'd ever heard of to lend proof to the idea that big dragons existed, and not just the little pseudo- and fairy dragons that lived through out the islands.  So the idea of a dracolich being turned loose, when I know how dangerous they are said to be, was not a very appealing idea. And as for a pool of radiance, well, it sounded nice, but a tainted pool, like a tainted well was certain to be bad…. over all, I came to a conclusion:  three "bad" things leading to a "flood of evil upon Faerun" was definitely very high on my list of very, very, very bad things.  Needless to say, whatever the undead…shudder…elf had to say, I was willing to listen, and more than likely would agree, no matter what our chances of survival were…after all, I meant to keep my vow.  The elf continued.

"The Cult is working with magic it does not quite understand, and is gambling that the immersion of the dracolich will not destroy him.  They are hedging their bets by bringing Pelendralaar's phylactery here and storing a fresh reptilian corpse nearby, so if the dracolich is killed by the pool, he can transfer his essence to the phylactery, posses the dead reptile and immediately try again.  Another one of my kind is in contact with another group of explorers in the ruins of the city.  They have agreed to battle the most powerful forces of the Cult, including the dracolich, but if they slay Pelendralaar he will only be forced to the phylactery-a temporary victory at best.  However, the item you have found here can be used to destroy the phylactery, making the dracolich's death permanent. This form is only an image, and cannot move objects. I need you to bring the scepter into the ruins of Myth Drannor and aid the attack against the Cult so that the mythal may be saved and repaired.  It is dangerous, but I know secret paths.  Will you aid me?"  I wanted to say yes immediately, but the others were quiet for a moment.  Once again, I decided to give them an obvious reason to help out...a personal goal.

"If we help with this, we're certain to find Shamour,"  I mentioned. They looked at me, and I could see the realization in their eyes…the reluctant agreement.

"We'll help," I said to Molostroi.  He nodded.

            "Good…go now, quickly, to the crypt of Lyssic.  There is a secret door behind his sarcophagus.  A tunnel there, will lead you into the city's barracks.  I shall speak with you again shortly."  Then he vanished.  

            We did his bidding without delay, and a short time later, we found ourselves climbing up into the ruins of old barracks. A few moments after arriving, the baelnorn reappeared.  He quickly explained to us what we needed to do next.

"Just across the street from here is Castle Cormanthor.  Beneath the castle, below the main underground chambers of the citadel, is the pool of radiance and Peledralaar's phylactery.  You need to make your way down to the phylactery and use Orbakh's scepter to shatter it.  I don't believe that you'll be able to fight the Cult forces straight on from here, they are too many, and you are far too few, despite your bravery.  You will need to use stealth and trickery from here on out, and here I can help you, with spells and information.

Just to the northwest of the castle, on the other side of Dragoneyes street is a small plot of land that appears to be nothing more than a pile of rubble.  In truth it is a sacred place of Sehanie Moonbow, elf goddess of the moon and dreams, guarded by illusions and spells to warn away evil and undead.  If you go there, and look past the spells you will be able to rest there, as it is a much safer place than these barracks.  Also, next to the temple is a patch of blue glow moss…if you should need healing, rest on it.  Go now, and I shall visit you in the morning so that we may prepare ."

            So we made our way to the temple, found it and rested on the blue glowing moss.  It worked just as he'd said, and come morning, the worst of my wounds, aches, and pains were gone.  I felt as rested as though I'd spent a night in a topnotch inn, and not a patch of moss.  Molostroi showed up, as promised and we quickly went over our plan of attack, as he warned us that the Cultists were becoming aware of our activities in the ruins.  Basically, we had to get into the Castle, avoid the upper levels, and go downstairs.  The first lower level had Cult soldiers, while the second had something called dragon kin…this was sounding better and better all the time.  On the second level, he told us to take a hidden door, and showed up on a sketched map where to find it.  From there we could go down into the pool room, and prepare, without being seen by the Cultists.  In the chamber room, all we had to do was destroy the phylactery and Shamour…Molostroi assured us that he would be guarding the phylactery, and escape.  He pointed out the passage we should use, a northern exit that would lead us to an exit near an old house that was mostly still intact, where we could hide.  Finally, he warned us that, should the dracolich approach, to run…that Pelendralaar was very powerful, and that we should not waste our lives needlessly by facing him.  I agreed with the "not wasting our lives" part, whole-heartedly.

Before we moved out, Molostroi offered to cast some protective spells on us, and several of the party members accepted.  I don't know what he cast, only that no one looked any different once the spells were done.  Then we left, to put the plan into action, for better of for worse.

Castle Cormanthor was a building of amazing beauty, still intact, even after whatever had happened in Myth Drannor to ravage the city.  Seven spiraled towers rose from the irregular structure.  The main building was three stories high, and the walls were very thick.  And all about the walls, and inside, dozens of Cultists moved around freely, intent on their tasks.  Sad, really, that such a pretty place was now a haven of evil and villainy.  Maybe, some day, some army for good would come through and clean out the city, and rebuild it…it was a nice thought that kept me occupied with imagining, even as we headed towards possible destruction.  Dressed in our stolen half-cloaks, with the hoods up, no one stopped our approach.  We were briefly halted at the gates and asked our business.  I replied, curtly, as though it were none of their business, but I was being obliging.

"Delivering magical items for Shamour."  The guards were satisfied and let us pass.  As we entered, I noticed that at least half of the Cultists within had manifested the reptilian changes…some boarding on outright disturbing.  We headed inside, to the main hall of the castle, where we were stopped again, and asked the same question.  We moved past, after giving the same answer.

            Inside, the hall bustled with activity.  There were a great deal of the "changed" ones, and another Cultist lead a group of skeletons across the room, and out another door.  All on the walls were intricate carvings, and tapestries with elves on them, mostly intact.  A staircase on the far end led up, and one led down.  We moved towards the appropriate staircase.  We made it down to the second level easily enough.  We came out into what was some sort of Cultist barracks.  The level itself looked as though it were made of some kind of natural stone, and the smooth floor was carved with images of animals, and plants.  The room was filled to capacity with Cult soldiers, and was magically lit by continual torches.  We moved towards the next set of stairs downward, when we were stopped by a growling voice from behind us.

"Where do you think you're going?!"  We turned to see another of the draconic looking people, only this one was even a bit more so than his fellows.  His features were elongated and the shape of his mouth distorted due to an unusual number of overly large, sharp teeth.  His skin was reddish in hue, and the hands that were crossed irritatedly across his chest bore wicked, long black nails.  He beckoned us over…other Cultists scurried to get out of our way as we complied.

"What?"  I asked, but he turned to address Guar, apparently, thinking that because Guar was the largest, he was also the leader.

"Where are you going?"  Guar, bless his hide, repeated my words.

"We're delivering magic items for Shamour."

"I don't think you are…I think you better get permission from Ellis before I let you go any further," the dragon thing sneered, and shoved Guar.  I could practically see Guar's temper fray, as he shoved the dragon man in return, and growled something unintelligible.  Realizing this could get bad quickly, I went to try to stop it, but I was surprised when the dragon guy backed off.  He seemed a bit intimidated by Guar, but quickly covered it up.

"Go see Ellis, NOW!!"  He roared, and pointed.  I gathered that the door he pointed to was Ellis's.  Quickly thinking up a plan, I tugged Guar away.  We went to see Ellis.  Knocking once on the door, which was slightly ajar, we were bid enter by a deep voice.  The interior of the room was lit by a continual flame, throwing lots of shadows about.  A middle aged man with white hair and a beard was working on some paper work at a desk.  Resting against the wall was a longsword, sheathed in flame, the point resting against the ground.  Using Guar as cover as we entered, I was able to slip away into the shadows with no one the wiser.  Ellis looked up as the others entered.

"Why are you bothering me?"

"We're supposed to be delivering some items down to the pool, but that …jerk out there told us he wouldn't let us until we spoke with you," Durand explained, even as I moved into position behind Ellis.

"Marjon?  I'll have to speak with him…I don't appreciate being interrupted."  Ellis rose, his motions stiff with annoyance.  Before he could take a step forward, I struck.  One arm slid around and I secured his forehead, while the other struck Ellis's deathblow, as I cut his throat open.  A fount of hot blood gushed over my hand, and I continued to restrain him, even as he whispered, with his last breath…

"…traitors…"  We wrestled him back to his desk.  Guar mopped up the worst of the blood, and we laid him face down, so it looked as though he was just napping.  I snatched up the fiery sword, and sheathed it.  We also found an odd mask in the drawer of the desk, and took that as well.  I felt a prick of conscience for killing the man in such cold blood, but I ruthlessly crushed it.  After all…he was obviously some sort of leader among the Cultists…and the Cultists had already proved themselves to be evil, and corrupt, and murders of the worst kind.

As we moved to leave, I patted the dead Ellis's check, and murmured softly, in the giant language, so the others would not understand, even if they overheard.

"No mercy for the wicked."  I looked up, and happened to glance at Kedra.  She grinned at me, and nodded her head in agreement…okay, so apparently one of the people I'm forced to travel with speaks giant…maybe I'll use Aquan next time.

We went back out, shutting the door firmly behind us.  Marjon was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed expectantly.

"Well?"

"Ellis said don't bother him with nonsense again, or you'll suffer the consequences."  I snapped.  Marjon didn't seem happy with the response, but did not try to hinder our departure.  We made our way down to the next level as quickly as possible.

The next floor was filled with the creatures that Molostroi had warned us were dragonkin, not just changed folk.  The cavern was dimly lit, and filled with piles of straw and dirt.  There were at least ten of the dragonkin that I could see, but I felt there were more hiding in the darkness beyond my vision.  Some sort of animal was impaled on a metal skewer, and was partially eaten.  We made our way over to where Molostroi had said the secret door would be.  There were a few human guards lounging on this level.  We approached them, and told them that we were their replacement shift, and that Ellis had told us to come down here.  They accepted the answer, readily enough, seeing as they all looked tired and bored.  Once they were gone, we sought out the entrance and entered the tunnel behind it.  Using a dagger and Guar's strength, we barred the secret entrance behind us, and down we went.  The tunnel terminated in a door, the hinges old and rusted from neglect.  I oiled the hinges, and the expected squeal was not nearly as loud as it might have been.  We peered into the large room beyond, scanning about.  There were a number of natural platforms rising above the floor, linked by wooden bridges.  A pool of clear water was below one of the platforms…a sense of evil and death and latent magic pervaded the room.  In the north part of the chamber, there was a tunnel shaped like a serpent's open mouth.  It was guarding by a rotting dragon…undead and shambling about.  The scales it had left were black, though, so I guessed it wasn't the dracolich.  Still, dead or not, it was the first dragon I'd ever seen, and the sight was a bit daunting.  The creature was huge, and I knew that I didn't want to face it down…and though it was stupid, no doubt due to its current, zombie-like status, I was still scared of just looking at it.  I shuddered to think how dangerous a true, thinking dragon would be.    
            In the distant corner of the room, I caught a glimpse of several figures.  One looked like another of those Cult wizards, all dressed in black, and such, while the other, taller and more impressive, had a purple drape over his robes.  Two of the dragonkin flanked them, acting as guards.  The two men were intent on their work on a metal cage before them.  That cage, I reasoned, was the phylactery.  Quickly we decided what to do.  I took the scepter with me, and volunteered to destroy the phylactery by sneaking behind the people.  The others were all left to distract the attentions of the two men and the two dragonkin.  They would approach, as though they belonged there, and once close enough they would attack.  We figured that one of those two men had to be Shamour, and by killing both, we would be assured of having gotten the job done.

So the plan went into action. I'd managed to sneak almost all of the way to my destination when the inevitable battle ensued.  A spell from Sinyalla put the wizard looking fellow to sleep, and Guar beheaded him.  Durand began to chop away at the dragonkin, who were reciprocating, furiously.  I ignored the battle, and the sounds of what was happening as I concentrated on the task at hand.  I quietly said the word to activate the scepter and hit it against the phylactery.  The cage, and the crystal within did not break, but the crystal cracked.  I drew back, and attacked again.  This time, the scepter…which felt wholly evil and draining in my hands, succeeded.  The crystal shattered, as did the cage.  As the whole phylactery crumbled, a resounding, angry roar filled the chamber.  It was so deafening that I could feel the very ground beneath my feet quake for a moment.  I guess that the dracolich was not a "happy fairy" dragon anymore…  Shamour, at least the one I figured was Shamour, spun on me, his eyes wide with shock and rage.  He attacked me with a mace, which slammed painfully into my shoulder.  But Shamour didn't have a chance.  As the last of the two dragonkin were dropped, Durand ran up, sword readied to assist.  The others were busy fighting off the undead dragon…I was glad it was them and not me.  Durand and I flanked Shamour…he had no escape.  It only took a few attacks on our part to drop him, seeing as he could only defend against one of us.  I waited for something to happen when we killed him…something cataclysmic…something dramatic…at the very least something painful…but nothing happened.  The re was another roar from somewhere further in the caves…the sounds of battle…I guess the other adventurers that Molostroi had spoken of were attempting to accomplish their side of the bargain.  I wondered if we would ever find out who they were…  

As I ran towards the others, I looked up.  From the mouth of the serpent cave, came a head…a huge, red head.  At first, I feared it was the dracolich, that we were doomed…but I quickly realized that the dragon I was looking at was most certainly alive…I don't know which prospect scared me more.  All I knew at that moment, was that running seemed like a capital idea.  I quickly expressed the idea to the rest of the party, and they just as quickly concurred.  Guar stopped to scoop up Shamour's body as we ran…just in case.  Following Molostroi's directions, we bolted from the pool room, without looking back.  As we were a short way into the tunnel, there was another howl…a death howl, and a thud from behind that caused the ground to shake again.  The sound of Cultists soldiers filled the room we'd just left…we ran faster.  

We made it to the abandoned house that Molostroi had told us of, and secreted ourselves inside.  The sounds of what was going on outside were faint, but still there.  A short time later, Molostroi appeared.

"Well done!"  he congratulated us.

"You've destroyed the phylactery, and the others finished off Pelendralaar.  Now, the mythal will return to what it was, and the pool of radiance will fade away."

"That's all good, but how do we get back to Ashabenford, from here?" I asked.

"Ashabenford?  Hmm…I know of a gate; but it is not safe now.  You should rest here, and when the way to that place clears, I shall guide you there.  Now, though, I wish to reward you for your assistance.  Up those stairs, " he pointed to a set of marble steps that were in surprisingly good condition considering how run down the rest of the house looked.

"Up there, you will find a chest…it is safe to open.  Within you will find a reward.  It, and my thanks, are all that I can offer you."  He inclined his head, and vanished.  

Wondering, I looked down at my arm.  Success!!  The tattoo representing the Cult of the Dragon was gone!  I was quick to share the information with the others, who were equally as happy.  Apparently, then, killing the one who'd helped put the tattoos there was the way to remove the unholy symbols.  Only four more to go, I thought.  The treasure proved to be a great deal of metal…mithral and something Kedra called "dark steel," a rather nice looking harp, which I confiscated, two masks, a dagger, a black staff, a crystal staff, and two beautiful star sapphires.  

We spent one more night in the city of Myth Drannor, and come morning, Molostroi led us up the top of a tower in the city, and bade us jump off the side.  Kedra followed the instructions first, and jumped…only to vanished halfway down.  I gather the gate was one of those mid-air things.  I bid Molostroi farewell, and followed Kedra.  A breathless moment later, I landed on my ass in the middle of a tilled field, not more than a few miles out of Ashabenford.  There were several farmers who'd been working, and were now staring at us as though we were demons come from the abyss to steal away their mortal souls.  A few gold pieces alleviated most of their concern, I quickly discovered.

The next few hours we spent dividing up the loot and selling it off.  Some of it we decided to take to other places, like the dwarven town, to get a better price.  I took everything magical, intending to have Dazelin check it out for us.  I figured that we could pay him by way of the many spellbooks we'd recovered.  Kedra, for some reason, begged for most of the dark steel…I took two pounds of it, and one of the mithral, and, unbeknownst to the others, the two star sapphires, and a few other things as well.  I had an idea I wanted to put to Dazelin, and the items I took would help.  It took about two days before I'd finished running around, getting rid of the normal "stuff" before I had time to go see Daz.  We made affair sum of money by selling things, a fair portion of which I passed out to people who needed it.  I was glad to see, however, that there weren't a whole lot of starving poor in Ashabenford.  And I'm fairly confident that now, there are none…  


	2. 2

At Dazelin's house, an odd eclectic looking building built around the ruined remains of an old tower, I found myself greeted, not by Dazelin, but by his familiar.  Tebryn was a rather unique looking cat, unique in that he had a set of large, fluttery wings protruded from his back.  I'd seen flying cats before, but never up so close, or as docile and tame as Tebryn was.  The cat didn't much seem to mind me, and indeed was a bit of a hog for affection and attention.  He happily purred and writhed under my hand as I petted him.  A few moments later, Daz appeared at the door.  I just know that somehow Tebryn can communicate with Daz somehow, and that the little fuzz ball was spying on me.  Still, and all, I always liked cats…I suppose it comes from being called a cat myself…can't really argue…I do love petting.  Tee-hee…

Dazelin seemed glad to see me…or at least his mildly greedy, merchant nature, and his rather active libido, were...I'm not really foolish enough to think that its my brain Daz is "fond" of me for.  His eyes widened when I dumped the sack of "stuff" to be identified before him, and the stack of spellbooks that we meant to pay him with.  Dazelin was only too glad to agree to help.  I must admit, that Dazelin, for all of his business demeanor, and sarcasm, wasn't so bad in the "gentleman" department, either.  He offered me a bath, and a bed, since I seemed "weary."  Of course, true to his real nature, we played a bit before I got to the cleaning and sleeping.  After a particularly…rousing bout of sex, involving several large mirrors and a spell of invisibility…a demonstration of an unusual, and rather pleasing way of "cleaning" up, in a soap-filled, bathtub that was more than big enough for two…and a surprisingly relaxing, and completely non-sexual massage from my creative, dark elven, lover, I fell asleep, completely relaxed, in Dazelin's bed.  

I had the dream again…it was the same as always…yet this time…it was clearer, and less dreamlike.  My mirror image was always trying to say something to me, but I've never been able to understand what, but as I watched, the movements of the image's lips seemed familiar…like words I know.  I thought that, if I could just watch for a few more seconds, I could finally understand what they were trying to say.  But I didn't have a few seconds…the fist smashed down, breaking the calm of the surface…and I knew that I'd failed…again…

I was shaken awake and out of the dream.  It seemed a sickeningly short time after I'd fallen asleep, and I was prepared to argue with Dazelin briefly, then roll over and back to sleep, but his words stopped me before I could get the chance.  I managed to make out his face, as I blinked sleepily.

"You've a visitor, Raine."  I groaned, and rubbed at my eyes.

"Unn…tell them to come back later."  I started to drift off again, when Dazelin knelt on the bed, and pulled me into a sitting position, his strength surprising, seeing as he was rather slight, and not at all muscular.

"I don't think that you ought to keep this visitor waiting.  Besides, she interrupted my spell so she could talk with you…if I have to be inconvenienced, then you have to be awake."  I muttered a rather foul word, directing it at him.  Dazelin…that prick, merely chuckled, and threatened to dump a bucket of cold water on me if I didn't get up….I had, after all slept though a whole day, he added.  I thought, that maybe he was lying about me having slept so long, but as far as a sense of time goes, I have none, and so no way to disprove him until I got up.  I managed to drag my lazy carcass out of the bed, making a mental note that , if I ever had my own house someday, that I would have a bed big enough for three northmen, and silk sheets…like Dazelin's.  I don't think that I've had a better night's sleep since dying.  Yawning, I dressed in my everyday clothing…not like I own any other clothing, though…except for my dancing outfit, and that's certainly not an outfit for possibly polite company.  I locked the door to the room, and quickly combed out and rebraided my hair…it wasn't as neat as usual, but I was trying to be quick so Dazelin wouldn't break in and see my hair down.  I splashed a bit of water on my face and opened the door…to the sight of Dazelin standing there, with a bucket of water, hand raised, as though he was about to knock.

"Oh good…now I don't have to wake you the hard way, and end up having to dry out my bed."  The little demon grinned as he set the water…and I have no doubt that it was icy, aside.  He gestured to the door to the front room in his house.  

"She's waiting out front," he stated, and then disappeared into the back, where he worked, no doubt to pore over the magical items we'd found some more…oh well, better him than me.

Feeling rather annoyed at having been forced from sleep, even though I'd apparently had more than my fair share, I walked out of Dazelin's house, settling my cutlass on my hip…just in case.

Waiting patiently on the step outside was a woman I'd met before…it was Dove.  She stood as I approached.

"Greetings, Raine."  She said.   I raised an eyebrow…what the hells was this about?  I hadn't robbed anyone lately…

"Uh…hello.  Something you wanted?" I asked.  Dove nodded.

"I've a proposition for you.  I've heard some things about you…"  
            "Well, don't credit everything you hear…I'm not all that bad, for all that I'm a thief," I was quick to state.  I just knew it was her sister, Lady Storm, who'd finally talked.  Dove laughed.

"Well, I don't know about all that, but I know about how you helped rout the Zhents that were stirring up trouble, and I've heard something about you and your friends fighting off some members of the Cult of the Dragon causing potential problems in Myth Drannor."

"Now how the hells did that story get out so fast?" I wondered aloud.  Dove laughed again.

"People like to talk In these parts…and I heard from the Riders of Mistledale that you and your friends dropped off several members of the Cult at their barracks, and then vanished.

"So what is it you want?  You're not going to try to throw us back in that jail again, are you?  We figured out how to remove the tattoos that caused us to attack that guy…it'll just take a while to track down each group.  See?  One gone already."  I showed her the blank space on my arm where the symbol of the Cult had been.  She nodded.

"I'm not here to take you back to jail, I promise.  You and your friends have more than proved yourselves to me, and to the rest of the members of the communities around here.  I promise that I will not interfere in your quest to remove your…problems.  I'm here to offer you a position among our ranks."

"Our?"

"The Harpers."

"Look, I may play the harp once in a while, but I'm certainly not bard material.  Besides, as far as music goes your sister puts me to shame…"  Dove chuckled…I noticed that she seemed to like to do that a lot.

"I don't mean Harpers as in musicians or bards, although there are quite a few of both among our ranks…the Harpers are a semi-secret organization of people who seek to protect people from the great evils that abound in Faerun, and to seek out those evils and stop them."  I liked the sound of that, but I wanted hear more before I committed myself to any "organization" where there might potentially be rules that I had to follow.

"Semi-secret?"   I asked.

"Yes…secret, in that while people may suspect they know who some of our members are, there are very few people who can prove it. There are only a very few people who know who all of the members are…all of them more than powerful enough to keep that secret.  Semi-secret, because, well, pretty much most people in Faerun know that the Harpers exist, even if they can't identify us."

"So, what exactly are the rules of these Harpers?"  I asked, hardly able to contain the suspicion in my tone.

"There are few.  One, is that you must be willing to work for the good of Faerun.  Another is that you must never reveal the identities of your fellow Harpers to enemies."  She went on to list a few more common sense types of things, all of which I had no problem with.

"So, I gather that, technically, these Harpers work outside of the law."

"We do work with the law whenever possible, but sometimes it is necessary to do things our own way.  The Harpers are made up of people in all stations of life, but adventurers and such make up the majority of our ranks.  Each Harper is allowed to get their job done in their own manner, with no interference from others.  It would be the same with you, if you chose to join us.

"So, basically, if I joined you, I would still be able to go where I want, do what I want, adventuring and whatnot, and the only way the Harpers would interfere in my life is to inform me of trouble and ask if I would go check it out and possibly do something about it, right?"  Dove nodded.

"That's about the size of it, put simply.  It would be not different from your current lifestyle, but for the fact that you would be considered one of us, and we would give you jobs that you could chose to accept or decline."

"And what, exactly, do I have to pay for this privilege?"

"Not a single coin.  Your money is your own to keep.  We make no profit for what we do.  The Harpers are not mercenaries.  We do this job for the good of the people of Toril, and that satisfaction is enough."  I nodded thoughtfully.  She hadn't said anything that I didn't like.  Helping innocent people and fighting off the wicked was exactly my plan…and if I could get the help, and the backing of a possibly respectable, or at least known group with similar ideals, I didn't have a problem with that.  But I had one more question.

"Why me?  Why not the others in the party?"

"As I said before, you have all proved your good intentions.  The rest of your friends are all good people, it seems, but there were reasons why we are not offering this position to any of them.  As for why you specifically, you've shown your belief in our ideals, and an obvious care for those who are in need of aid.  You've shown to have a good, and generous nature.  And you've shown that you know how to keep a low profile."  I shot her a questioning glance.

"The dwarves of Glen and I are well acquainted, and they spoke of your "gift" to them, when I commented on the repairs that had been done to the damage done by the Zhents."

"Damned, loud-mouthed, little diggers…going to ruin my bad name…" I muttered, without much malice.   In the end, I agreed.  Why not?  It wasn't anything big or dramatic…Dove just handed me a silver pin shaped like a harp, and welcomed me to the Harpers.  The pin was called, naturally, a harper pin, and it had certain magical properties…all of the protection variety.  Dove said that she couldn't really stay, but referred me to a Lord Wolcott, the guy whose servants and horse we'd rescued from the Zhents, who was apparently a semi-retired harper.  He would be able to get a message to her if I needed it, and would most likely be the one sending messages to me, from the Harpers.  He would also help me learn how to cast some spells.  Dove explained that all Harpers, barring the ones who had no magical ability, learned how to cast a few small spells that proved invaluable in the Harper line of work.  As long as I didn't have to spend years in some musty library learning shit, I was fine with the idea of casting magic…I knew how to use scrolls, after all.  I figured, actually casting couldn't be that much harder, right?  

Just before she left, Dove tossed one more comment at me.

"Oh…by the way, my sister, Storm sends her greetings, and asked if the potion of healing was of use?"  I almost blushed, but I'm good at quick recoveries.

"Actually, yes…during that whole Zhent thing.  Tell her that she has my thanks, and I vow that next time we meet, I shall try to keep my hands out of her potion belt."  I winked.  Dove just shook her head, and smiled, and strolled off back towards Ashabenford.

Later in the day, after he'd finished identifying all the magic stuff, I pitched my idea to Daz.  I'd decided that I wanted, and perhaps needed, a magical sword.  Sure, I had the Winter's Eye sword, which was the longsword I'd taken from Ellis, but I liked my cutlass better…and somehow, I doubted I'd find a magical cutlass just lying around somewhere.  I asked Daz if he could magically enchant a sword if I had one made.  He replied that he could both enchant the sword, and make the blade as well, and then promptly showed me his forge, which was kept in a part of his house that I hadn't seen yet.  I told him basically what I wanted…sharp, tough, and with some neat extra effects.  He told me that he had a few ideas, but that overall, it would cost about 50,000 gold to make.  It was an exorbitant sum, but he vowed that the materials needed were expensive.  I gave him some of the more useless items I had, some wands and scrolls and such…the metal and gems I'd saved and a few other things, and managed to get him to drop the price by half.  It seemed a fair deal to me, considering how much some of the other magical things we found were worth.  He said that he would start work as soon as possible, but that it would take around a month and a half to make.  I told him I'd pay him the rest in increments.  I'd had large sums such as what I was going to be paying him, before, but always managed to spend them just as quickly. 

I left Daz to his business, and went about mine.  I went to "talk" with Andar.  I had fun down at the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf for a few days.  Andar was still a bit reluctant, and nosy as ever, but he challenged me to a contest that I couldn't refuse.  He bet that I could not refrain from flirting with him for ten minutes, while being distracted.  I accepted.  He tried his damndest, but in the end I proved the stronger.  In return, I challenged him to a similar contest.  I bet that he could not last ten minutes under my ministrations, without…ahem…losing control of a certain part of himself.  In that particular contest, Andar lost again…I am quite skilled.  As a reward for my two wins, I demanded that he stop being so reluctant, when it was obvious that he wanted to sleep with me, and that for one day he would have to refrain from asking me questions and being so nosy.  He agreed to the "punishment," although I think that he had a far harder time with the "no questions" part than he did with the other, as he promptly showed me his lack of reluctance.  

I'd taken my warhorse, Apple, with me, walking him beside me, much like a dog.  And yes, I know that Apple is a ridiculous name for a warhorse…  He wasn't happy when I tried to make him help plowing one of the fields that I ended up working on with Andar.  However, a few apples worked as a wonderful bribe, although the horse gave me a long-suffering, indignant look when he realized how I'd tricked him into helping.

It was a few days later, while I was taking a walk up to Ashabenford that I started thinking some odd stuff. 

I don't know where the thought came from…it certainly wasn't anything I'd ever expected, because I never really thought it was something I wanted.  I was feeling a bit tired of my nomadic state…not adventuring and thieving…not at all…I mean tired of sleeping in other people's house, in someone else's bed…paying for a room that I stay in for a night or two…never having any place of my own to go back to…to store my things at.  I can't even remember a time in my life that I ever had a room that was mine.  At the church, there were always more orphans than just me, and sharing a room with three other kids was never pleasant, though the Earthmother knows, Lady Emilia tried. Gull and I often split the costs of the dives we rented in Caer Callidyrr…and believe me, with a honker like the one he had on his face, that man snored to wake the gods themselves.  And after Gull died…well, its been a long line of one man after another that paid for "our" room for the evening.  It's not that I mind sleeping with so many men…even now…I like my lovers…it's just that…I want something of my own.  I know I can't have the people I loved back…even though I'd stay in a different place every night for the rest of my mortal life if that's what it would take.  I know that, being cursed and all, I can't let myself like anyone too much…but I could have a house…someplace to stay that would be mine, and no one else's.  Maybe I'd let people stay there, but it would still be mine, and not theirs.  So I thought about that a little more, and then thought about the large pile of gold I'd just gotten…donations to Raine, courtesy of the Cult of the Dragon…hehehe.  I knew what I wanted to do.  

Instead of going back to Andar that night, I asked around a bit.  I found out that there were houses for sale, and people who could build new houses, and that either way, I had enough money to purchase three manors, if I'd wanted.  But as I did all that walking and talking, I listened too…and what I heard, was the same story.  Everyone in Battledale and Mistledale were being pounded by the drow attacks out of the forest.  I heard rumors that the Councilor of Mistledale, Haresk Malorn was worried, and that Lord Ilmeth of Essembra's troops were being spread thinner everyday.  I saw the worry on the faces of all the folk I passed…remembered the relief on the faces of the farmers who ended up getting the money I'd donated.  That relief would only be fleeting though, for the next attack by drow would take away, again what they'd gotten back.  I felt a bit selfish.  Here I had all of this money, and they had so little…and what little they did have was in jeopardy due to the drow, and all I could think about was having a big, dust-collector…a house.  So I started to think some more.  I walked a long way as I thought, away from general civilization.  I was trying to think of a way I could help secure those peoples' safety.  Giving money was all well and good, but was worth nothing if it was just stolen away again.  Turning to old habits, I sent up a prayer to the Earthmother for guidance…and, breaking with old habits, perhaps starting new ones, I sent a prayer to the outlander goddess, Tymora, asking for a bit of luck to help me with my dilemma.  I looked up from the path I'd been walking a moment later, and found myself standing before the ruins of Galath's Roost…and got an idea that would give me what I wanted, and help out the people of the dalelands, all in one go.

To carry out my plan, I needed the help of Andar, and Lord Wolcott.  Andar knew the area, and Wolcott…who proved to be a rather gruff, aging man with salt and pepper hair and a still-muscular build, was a lord and could speak with other "lords."  Wolcott proved easy enough, once I explained my idea to him.  He agreed to get me in to speak with Lord Ilmeth, and Councilor Haresk Malorn.  Incidentally, I picked up the nuances of spell casting the Harper spells fairly quickly…I think that maybe Wolcott was impressed, though, to his credit, he didn't show it.

As much as I don't care for Tempus, I knew that to accomplish my goal, I could get them clergy of the Abbey of the sword to agree to help me out some…the kind of venture I had in mind was just their kind of deal.  The Riders of Mistledale were all too willing to help out when I pitched the plan to them.  The dwarves of Glen agreed to my proposal, giving me a reduced rate on the work I wanted done as thanks for my assistance to them earlier.  Daz accepted the part I had for him to play, with me only having to offer him a small fee.  Men are so easy to manipulate when all they can due is stare at the low neckline of your tunic.

Both Lord Ilmeth and Councilor Malorn agreed to my plan, saying that if it worked, both dales would get some highly needed relief, and would be able to work on some of the other problems that kept, inevitably popping up in such a large area.

Now, talking to all these people required a lot of back and forth between Mistledale and Battledale, and Andar got fed up at one point and said he was tired of walking, when I had a perfectly good horse to ride.  Without even consulting me, he saddled up my horse and hopped on.  I was on the verge of telling him that I'd catch up with him later, when, without warning, Andar grabbed me by the waist and hauled me up in front of him.  I tried to squirm down, but he held fast to my waist, warning me not to upset the horse.  

"Andar!" I hissed at him.  "I don't like riding!"  He laughed and replied,

"You most certainly do."  By his tone, I knew what he meant and forced myself not to react to the suggestion.  I was too busy trying to keep still so that the damned animal would throw me.

"Riding a man is not like riding a horse.  With a man, my knees are on the ground, I'm in control, and there's a cock between my legs to keep me from falling off!" I whispered loudly.

"Raine…are you afraid of horses?"  He asked incredulously.

"Yes!"  I snapped at him, without shame.  He laughed at me, the bastard.

"Come…I will show you that a horse can be…controlled as easily as a man…relax."  He refused to let me go, and I refused to relax.  We walked for a while, my heart in my throat the whole damned time.  Then Andar, damn his hide, distracted me into relaxing…I must admit though, it was clever of him to use his tongue on the points of my ears…I was so busy being aroused that I hardly noticed we were on a horse.  When Apple began to pick up speed…to a canter, Andar called the gait, I was shocked to realize that the motions one had to make while riding a horse were, indeed, very much like the motions of sex...especially when I'm on top.  

Now, I'm not saying that I became a great rider in a few days, or even that I got over my fear of horses, but I didn't feel quite so uncomfortable about the animal as I had before.  And Apple, who had an apple addiction…hence the name, was far happier being ridden than being forced to plow the fields.  Still, and all, I'm not certain that I'd like trying to ride without Andar sitting directly behind me…keeping me…occupied. 

A few days into my asking all of these people questions, and for their help, I stopped back in Ashabenford, just in time to meet Kedra's brother.  Now Keberk, as I believe he was called, definitely rates high up there for one of the single most, gods awful, chauvinist, domineering, overbearing, male dicks that I've ever met.  He barged into the inn, yelled "Where the hells is she?!" Things went down hill from there.  He demanded to know where Kedra had been, what the hells she thought she was doing, and why the hells wasn't she back home, married and popping out babies like a good little dwarven girl.  Kedra, being the stubborn little thing she is, shouted right back at him, that she'd died and been brought back, that she was on a quest to remove the tattoos from her arm, and that it was his fault that she wanted to adventure, anyhow, that if he hadn't taught her all about fighting and such, that she wouldn't have wanted to go adventuring to begin with.  The stunted, little, pig actually suggested that Kedra cut her arm off, and then added that he'd taught her to fight only so that she could defend the hearth, and that you only needed one arm to wield a weapon…and this was her twin!  Harsh words were exchanged, and none of the other party members, including myself, were being overly helpful.  He just irritated me so much…though I gave as good as I got, and all my blows, were definitely "low."   I managed to insult his size in a variety of colorful ways, and insinuate that Guar and Kedra were more than friends, which seems to infuriate him to no end, leaving him howling about his sister consorting with a "tusker."  In the end, Kedra proved to be semi-diplomatic with her annoying sibling, and got him to agree to leave her be for two years before he was allowed to demand that she return home and get herself married.  I shrugged.  It wasn't really any of my affair, anyhow…I just enjoyed rankling the repugnant, little, digger.  On my way out the door, I mentally thanked the gods that I had no siblings…I suppose there are a few good things about not having family after all.

I ended up staying at the inn for the night, and another one after that, after what I heard when I woke up the next morning. 

Durand was ranting about how Sinyalla had woken him up complaining that she was being watched, and that he, having tried to stay up and keep watch himself, had fallen asleep, with a dagger in his hand, only to wake that morning and find that the dagger had been plunged into the wood of the nightstand beside his bed.  Apparently Sinyalla had been complaining of being watched for two nights now, and the dagger thing alone was enough to pique my curiosity.  So that night, as the sun set, I found myself a nice shadowy place on the roof of the inn, while Durand and Sal took up position in Sinyalla's room.  We weren't disappointed. Shortly around mid night, I noticed the window to Sinyalla's room, which had only a few minutes ago been closed, was now open.  Quickly, I headed down the side of the building on my rope.  There was no sign of any one within who should not have been there, but Sal was blocking the window and Durand was blocking the door, and looking around.  The window had been closed again, no doubt by Saldenon.  Using a magical wand we'd found in Myth Drannor, I used a charge to detect invisibility, and there he was, up on the ceiling…a cloaked figure, watching those below with interest.  He had a knife in his hand.  I tapped on the window to get Sal's attention and pointed up to where the person was, Sal got the hint and squinted at the ceiling.  Everything happened in a fast blur after that.  The person dropped from the ceiling and stabbed Durand, who doubled over in pain.  Sal moved towards the man, even the man made a dash for Sinyalla, who was cowering like a candle flame in the breeze, on her bed.  Acting quickly, I kicked out the glass, and reached for the girl.  She caught my hand; I yanked her out a second before he would've had her.  I started to climb up, Sinyalla on my back.  I warned her not to let go.  Below us, the attacker had managed to elude Sal and jumped from the window to the ground floor.  Saldenon was already out after him, and Durand was almost to the ground.  I caught sight of the bow and arrows in the shadows, second before the bow twanged, and the arrow severed the rope above me.  Sinyalla and I tumbled to the ground.  Sinyalla hit hard and moaned for a moment.  I immediately rolled up and back to my feet, standing over her.  I caught sight of the attacker trying to make his escape around the corner.  No one else seemed to see him…I guess he was just that good at hiding, so I yanked Sinyalla to her feet and told her to follow.  I figured that she would be safer with me, rather than alone in case he tried to double back.  Above, I heard Kedra and Guar yelling.  They'd been asleep, not wanting to get involved, for Kedra believed that Sinyalla was only having bad dreams and waking up everyone else over childish nonsense.  Apparently they were willing to get involved now.  

I tracked the attacker to an alley, where the footprints ceased halfway down.  I looked up, remembering that I'd seen him up in the shadows on the ceiling.  Sure enough, there he was scrambling up the wall like a spider.  I managed to get a shot at him but missed.  He jumped back down and stabbed Sinyalla.  Saldenon arrived, and the two of us double-teamed the attacker for a moment, stabbing him, in my case.  The attacker thought to make an escape and scrambled back up the wall.  At that moment Kedra arrived and cast a spell from a scroll.  A ball of fire shot from the pages and slammed into the wall with force enough to rock the foundation of the building.  There was a huge hole beginning to catch fire, but I caught a glimpse of the attacker escaping over the wall, unharmed by the spell.  Durand, Sal and I went up the building after him.  Sinyalla cast a spell and flew off towards a temple for help.  Once at the edge of the building, I saw the attacker running for the river.  Drinking a potion of jump, I started after him.  I arrived at the scene a heartbeat after Saldenon had close-lined the bastard, and pinned him down.   Sal wasn't doing so hot, and had already been stabbed once.  Acting on instinct, seeking to disarm the attacker, I kicked his hand away from Sal's side, and brought my cutlass and longsword down onto his arm.  The attacker let out a shrill noise of pain as I quite literally "disarmed" him…or de-handed him, as the case proved to be.  He managed to throw Sal off again, but at that moment, Durand arrived, and we made short work of the man.  He fell unconscious just as the others managed to catch up with us.  Guar healed the attacker…we didn't want him dead yet with out answering any questions…and I tied him up.  Once everything was stable again, we headed off after Sinyalla.  We caught up with her at the temple to a god named Tyr.  She was being healed for poison …apparently the attacker had had a poison of sorts on his blade.  A smelling salt managed to jerk the would-be killer back to awareness.  I was quite shocked to see that he was a moon elf.  There was disgusted sneer on his face as he surveyed us, then summarily dismissed us.  He answered little enough of the questions we came up with for him.  All we learned was that he'd intended to kill Sinyalla, called her "devil-spawn," and hinted that he was the one who'd killed Sinyalla's family.  At that statement, Sinyalla went pale, and went into a sobbing fit, blurting out a tale of murder…how all of her family members, over the years had been systematically hunted down and killed by a "demonic" creature.  Apparently elf and demon were easily confused in the mind of a child, for as she spoke of each death, the moon elf's grin widened evilly.  On him, we also found a tattoo, that to my surprise matched one of the collective party tattoos…it was that of the Eldereth Veluuthra…a group of elves, so we'd been told, who hated the human race, and most of the others as well, and went our of their way to kill them.  However, when we questioned him about the group and the tattoo, he refused to answer beyond that we would soon "see."  While Sinyalla blubbered on, I decided to have a bit of fun, since we'd decided that we would turn him over to the council of Ashabenford later, for judgment.  I had Guar hold the elf's head tightly, as I tattooed the word "Murderer" across his cheeks.  He grimaced in pain at the needles, and in more, as I described to him, in detail, the specifics of my relationship with Dazelin and Inialos.  He used an intriguing term on me, calling me a "half-breed."  The comment only took me back for a moment, and then, chagrined, I demanded to know how he'd realized, since I keep my ears well hidden.  He snarled that it was my eyes that gave me away, and that I was even worse than a common human for being what I was.  It didn't bother me…after all it was a murderer talking.  I hardly would've ever thought that an elf would be so very evil though.  It didn't match at all with any of Jael's tales.

We got rid of the bastard a while later…the council members weren't really pleased to be awoken so late at night.  In the morning, we returned.  It was decided that we would turn him over to the elves for his punishment.  With that in mind, I told the council that I knew of a relatively trustworthy elf…or at least I knew he had no tattoo of the Eldereth Veluuthra on his body, seeing as I knew every inch of him rather intimately.  I was rather surprised when the council members not only knew Inialos' name, but also sent a messenger boy off to fetch the elven ranger.  Apparently, Inialos had been in town, for the boy returned but moments later, his ears being bored off his head by Inialos prattling on inanely about all things rangerish.  He grinned when he saw me, and called out my name.  When he was close enough, I gently placed my hand over his mouth and explained what had happened.  Inialos took the gesture good naturedly, although he continued to try to talk, even while being obviously muffled.  Inialos quickly agreed to take the murderer off to his elven kindred.  He dragged the other off by his feet, babbling on.  I wasn't worried.  Inialos may not be the greatest warrior I'd ever met, but he could certainly take care of himself against one bound, unarmed, one-handed elf.

After Inialos left, I followed suit, and headed off as well.  I still had business to attend to with my plan, and though I'm all for helping out my fellow party members, this little jaunt had delayed things a bit.  After stopping at the Abbey of the Sword, (Sinyalla followed me there for some odd reason, but lost interest once I went inside), I met up with Andar again, so I could talk with him about how things were progressing.      

It was Andar who came up with the idea of scavenging other ruined keeps and manors, of which there were many throughout Battledale, to get the supplies to finish up my plan.  

Now, I suppose you want to know, just what is this plan?  Well, I'll tell you.  When I looked at Galath's Roost, I saw a place that could be just what was needed, with a bit of work.  Galath's Roost, though falling to ruin, still had most of its stone, had a good foundation, and lots of room.  It would make the perfect fort.  It was halfway between Ashabenford and Essembra, just on the inside edge of the forest, where all the drow attacks were coming from, supposedly.  If it were rebuilt, it would give soldiers from both Dales a permanent base.  It would be the perfect stopover place for the Riders of Mistledale.  It would offer faster protection from attacks on the surrounding communities.  And, hopefully, the mere presence of a fort in that area would deter some of the attacks from occurring at all.  As for what I got out of it…there was plenty of room in the fort…enough room for the soldiers, and for regular people.  I would live in the fort as well.  It would be my home…and what better protection for your home than a garrison of soldiers?

            I decided that it was what I wanted to do…but I knew that I would need help in my endeavor.  I learned that Galath's Roost had once been a keep, but it had been wrecked some 400 years ago during a war with some people from a place called Sembia.  So, obviously, no one owned it.  That was where Lord Ilmeth came in.  The Roost was technically in Battledale, even though it was practically on the border of Mistledale as well.  I asked Lord Ilmeth for a grant of the Roost and 200 acres of land surrounding it.  When I explained why I wanted it, he not only gave me the land…a deed to it, my own name written on the parchment!…but he also gave me 4,000 gold pieces and a promise of ten soldiers to live at the barracks I would build there, once the fort was up.  

            Next I went to the High Councilor Malorn, of Mistledale, and pitched the same scheme to him.  He couldn't grant land that I already owned, but he, too liked the idea, thinking it a venture that just might work to deter the drow.  He gave me 5,000 gold, and ten more men for the garrison that would kept there.

            The Riders of Mistledale though my idea brilliant.  They offered me 1,000 gold, which wasn't much, but all they could manage.  And, more importantly, they offered their assistance and their pledge to help patrol around the fort, once it went up.

            At the Abbey of the Sword, Guar's name got me an audience with the highest priest they had there.  As a battle-ready group, the priests of the temple agreed that it was a sound idea, and an honorable cause, and pledged 4,000 more gold, and offered their expertise on building the fort so that it would be able to withstand sieges.  Though I don't care for Tempus, as I've said, I accepted their aid.

            Dazelin's aid, I garnered for when the fort would be completed.  Once it was done, I wanted to know that we would have a way to know if the drow were sneakily trying to attack us, and I wanted to know that we would have a powerful wizard who could be there quickly to aid the soldiers in repulsing the dark elves.  He told me that he would enchant a stone of alarm for the first purpose, and that for a nominal fee; he would help with the second.  It was fair, so I agreed.

            I went to the dwarves of Glen, for I knew that dwarves are great builders.  These were no exception, and when I offered them the job, they seemed pleased at the prospect of the money, the work, and the idea that there would be a keep not more than an hour's walk from their village.  So they agreed to do the work at a reduced rate.  Their reasoning being that I had helped them once, now they could help me…and by helping me, they would also be helping themselves.  I didn't argue, so long as they agreed.  I also warned them about the bees in the basement, and the sinkholes.  I told them that the bees were not to be harmed, that I had a plan to have a continual source of money by keeping the bees. The dwarves didn't argue, especially after I explained that we could use smokesticks to keep the bees out long enough for the dwarves to shore up the parts of the underground portion where there sinkholes, and to build the wall that I wanted to help contain the bees.

            So by that time, I had 14,000 in donated money…not loans, but free and clear.  The fort would cost another 6,000 for them to build.  I paid it all and willingly.  The scavenged supplies from other keeps in the area cut down my costs a great deal, they told me.

            So with everything else out of the way, there were only three others I had to convince to help.

            Rossal, the little pseudodragon, was easy…all I had to do was promise not to cut down his tree, and plant an apple tree next to it, and he was more than willing to let me rebuild the Roost, and help out with the guarding of it once it was done…not that I imagine he'll be a whole lot of help.

            Lyklor, the elven ghost, claimed he didn't have a problem with the Roost being rebuilt, so long as no one disturbed his family's crypt.  I vowed that it would stay safe, and that, if he wished, I would restore the small temple to his elven goddess, Sehanie.  He brightened...that is if a ghost could brighten, at the offer, and graciously accepted.  To get him to agree to be a guardian of the fort as well, I offered to try and find out what I could of the living members of his elven clan, and to play the harp for him as often as he wished, whenever I was home.  He accepted, of course...being dead for so long, I suppose hw would have agreed to anything that would keep his crypt safe, and give him something to do.

            While I was poking around the ruins, I came across the kobolds and a few stirges that we'd missed in the first round of cleaning out the Roost.  I took care of them easily enough, with only a few minor wounds.  With the kobolds, I found a large, dire weasel.  The creature was vicious, but I did not kill it…only knocked it out and restrained it.  I had a possible use for the animal.

            To that end, I managed to get word to Inialos that I needed to speak with him…sigh.  He showed up at the ruins a day later, while I was dragging the carcasses of the dead ants, kobolds, and such out of the Roost to be burned.  After a brief roll in the grass, which left his braid looking messier than ever, I explained to him what I meant to do.  He thought it a good idea, but claimed that he could think of no way to help me.  I told him about the weasel, and asked if he knew how to train animals.  Inialos almost seemed insulted, when he replied that "of course" he did.  I asked him if he could train the beast to protect the fort…to ferret out drow, and such.  Inialos replied that he would see what he could do, but that it would take a while.  I shrugged and told him that the fort wouldn't even be up until the beginning of the cold months.  After another bout of "play," the elven ranger took the weasel with him, and returned to the forest.

            I returned to the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf.  I had one more plan to play out, and one more person to speak with about the fort.

            During the time it took me, going back and forth between the dales, I learned one other thing about Mistledale.  For all the dale was a farming community, it had only one mill and the mill was run by a family of tightfisted, bad natured, miserly bastards.  I also learned that the fields belonging to the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf were some of the most productive in all of the dalelands, but that they, too, were forced to rely on that one mill to turn their grain into flour.  I still had money left…so I pitched my second Idea to the abbey's leaders.  I would donate the 5,000 gold needed for them to build and begin operating a brand new mill.  Being that the mill would be run by the followers of Chanteau, who were very well respected in the dalelands, by the farmers, and seeing that the priests were far more genial and would be more reasonable in their prices than the other mill, more of the farmers would go there to have their grain milled.  The priests all thought it was a fine idea, and after a bit of haggling, and my explanation as to why I needed it, they agreed to give me one third of the profits that came from the mill, for the first five years, the other two thirds being theirs to do with as they wished.  Thanks to my previous donations to the church, and Andar's surprised, but good words about me, it was a deal that everyone was happy with.  I would use the proceeds from the mill to pay the few people that would, inevitably have to be hired to help with the upkeep of the fort.  Fortunately, in my ramblings, I'd seen a great deal of farmers with an abundance of children who had nothing to do.  I worked in the fields as a child, and enjoyed it, even though I had made nothing for it.  The farmer kids would be offered money for their assistance…money that, no doubt, their families could use.  It would be the perfect situation…I just needed one final detail.  

            So I spoke with Andar, giving him the details on everything that I'd accomplished.  Finally, he broke in.

            "Why don't you just ask me?"  He asked, with a smile.  I attempted to seem confused.

            "I think what you're doing is a wonderful plan…you don't need to convince me of that.  All you have to do is ask me."  So I did.

            "Will you help me?  I want to plant some of the acreage around the Roost so that we can be self-sufficient there…like my old church.  You know, vegetables, grain, and hay…I just need an actual follower of the Earthmother to help supervise.  Besides…with all the people that are going to be there, there are bound to be injuries, and it would probably be good to have a priest there.  I'll let you set up a shrine to the Earthmot…Chanteau, if you want…"       

            "Raine."  I sighed.

            "Will you come and live at the fort once it's built, and help with the planting and the fields?"  I asked, finally, simply.

            "I will," he replied.  It was that easy.  

            And so, while it took me close to two ten-days to get everything set, I had set my feet on the path that I wished my life to take.  With the three months it would take to raise the fort from its ruin, I could continue trying to find the people we had to kill to get rid of the tattoos.  My keep would possibly offer some protection from the raids, that the people of both Dales desperately needed, so I would be keeping my vow to help those who could not defend themselves, and assuage my feelings of guilt.  I would have my home…in the form of a three story, round tower in the southwestern corner of the fort…a place that only I would be able to live in, or enter…although I'm sure that I wouldn't mind Andar staying with me, if he wished.  And, finally, by joining the Harpers, I felt that I was taking another step in the direction of good.  Maybe someday I would do enough good to outweigh whatever evil I did to be cursed…and maybe then I would be able to stop running from my feelings and from people who might care for me, if I let them…but until then it's adventure and danger and do-gooding for me.

At the end of two weeks, I met up with the others back at the inn in Ashabenford.  We were all sitting around, having lunch and silently pondering where to go next to deal with our problematic, magical, skin art when "trouble" came looking for us.   

Okay, so it was a messenger from Lord Wolcott, not trouble.  He came searching for the adventurers known as the Crimson Flame.  Apparently that was the name we were being called, now, due to the tattoos we all shared.  We agreed to meet with Wolcott and headed over to his manor straight away.  Wolcott greeted the party warmly as we were led in.  He caught my eyes once, but did not let onto the others that we already knew one another. That was fine with me, as I really didn't want them to know of my joining the Harpers.  Lord Wolcott proceeded to hit us up for some assistance.  Apparently, down south, in Deepingdale, something strange was going on.   Animals of the forest, for no apparent reason, had turned violent, and were attacking towns and people.  It was strange, because the animals seemed almost organized in their endeavor.  He asked that we check it out, and see what we could do to help.  I agreed right away, thinking that maybe this was a silent request for aid by the Harpers.  Even if it wasn't, it was better that anything we currently had to do, which was a grand sum of nothing.  The others agreed, albeit more hesitantly.  After all, we had been betrayed by our last "employer," and none of us had any desire to repeat the experience.  Wolcott gave us directions to dale, and the area where the bulk of the attacks had been occurring.  

As soon as we departed Wolcott's house, Durand stated that he didn't trust the Lord, and that he thought we should find our own way to the dale, just in case this were a trap.  Despite my wanting to keep my new status hidden from the others, I quickly stood up in defense of Wolcott's character, claiming that I had it on good reference that Wolcott was a trustworthy sort.  Durand seemed reluctant, but seeing as we had no map of the area and no one really wanted to go trailblazing, we ended up following the river Ashaben, as Wolcott had suggested after all.

We were hardly more than a day out when the attack occurred, although it wasn't Wolcott who was behind it, as we quickly learned.  It started by way of red fletched arrows arcing out of the trees and connecting with various party members.  Kedra took a particularly nasty hit in the chest, but fortunately for her, her chain shirt, and a rather large set of breasts protected her.  Durand, in typical noble fashion (and he was even worse lately, having received a message from home, and a commission in a group of soldiers in a place called Cormyr, called the Purple Dragons.  I gather that these soldiers were like less religious, and more king–oriented versions of a paladin…so how Durand got to join them is beyond me), wheeled his horse about and demanded that our attackers reveal themselves.  None did, so the rest of us, tired of being peppered with arrows, took the fight into the woods, and the trees.

It turned out to be elves…more of the Eldereth Veluuthra.  The elves put up a grand fight…attacking from the trees and from the land, with weapons and with spells.  Guar and Saldenon both went down once, and Kedra was gravely wounded.  No words were ever exchanged, only blows.  I climbed up, and battled in the treetops, even as the others fought below.  One by one the elves fell to our blades and bows, though there was not a one of us who went unwounded, or unmarked by the elven treachery.  The leader was an elven man, and the only one among them who had skin like Inialos, or the Murderer's…or my own for that matter.  All of the others had a golden hue to their skin, and seemed to be a different type of light elf…something other than the "moon elf" that Inialos claimed he was.  The leader had powerful casting abilities, and his spells did the most damage to members of the party.  We managed to drop the bastard, or at least he seemed dead when we moved on to finish the last few off.  We were all surprised when the apparently "dead corpse," rose to attack us from behind.  Still and all, he fell again, and this time, we separated his head from his body to make certain of his demise.  Finally, tired and thoroughly wearied, we declared our victory, as the last of the strange, hostile elves fell to our blades.  

It felt wrong killing them…but we'd had no choice.  I don't know why they acted as they did…it seems so different from everything I'd been told about elves.  Apparently, there was evil in the race, besides the drow, I realized, though the thought comforted little.  I had not even screamed during the fight, which had seemed strangely quiet to me.  Even Guar's roars had been muted.  We took their things from them, and in doing do, noticed the Eldereth Veluuthra tattoo on the leader…and noticed that the Eldereth Veluuthra tattoo on our own arms had faded away as quickly as had the Cult of the Dragon tattoo.  So, at least we had a reason for their attack…obviously they meant to destroy the failed "experiments" that myself and the others had become.  Once again, I felt ill at the lack of control in my life…perhaps someday…  I did not sleep well that night.  

We arrived at the town of Highmoon three days later; the remainder of our trip had been uneventful. After dumping most of the stuff we'd gotten off the elves, we headed over to the town's only tavern.  I went straight up to the bar, ordered a strong drink.  The bar keep brought me out something called dragon's breath.  It was dark and foul looking, and I drank it down all at once.  The liquor burned down my throat and landed in my stomach, where it continued to smolder.  I coughed for a moment or two, and once I could breath again, I complimented the barkeep on the vintage, and bought enough to fill my flask.  After that, the man was only too happy to answer my questions.  He told us all he knew about the animal attacks in the area…the attacks appeared too random, but consisted of any type of animal…even animals who would never work together.  There was no pattern as to where the attacks occurred…he told us a tale about the only one person who'd survived the attacks…a farmer who'd been attacked by some strange reptilian beast. However, he thought that the attacks all seemed to be based out of the woods near the town.  Finally, he told us that we were not the only ones looking into the attack, that a woman in shining Armour was wandering about town asking questions as well.  With that, we took our leave of the bar.  Sinyalla headed off to speak with the farmer; Saldenon went to a temple of a god called Oghma, apparently some god of learning, for information…and I don't really know where Guar and Kedra went.  As usual, I wound up getting stuck with His Lordship, as we went to seek out the woman who was asking around.

We found her easily enough, wandering through the town square.  She greeted us easily, and was quite helpful, when we informed her, that we, too, were looking into the attacks.  She told us that her name was Sheena, and that she was a priestess in the service of the goddess Selune, whose powers were over the moon, and creatures of the moon…like were-creatures.  She didn't have too much information, only that the attacks were definitely not natural, and that she believed the culprits were situated somewhere in a part of the forest called the Darkwatch.  We told her what little we knew, and about the people of the Black Blood…the evil druids whose mark the party members all bore on their arms.  Sheena was not unfamiliar with the group, and nodded gravely when we spoke of them.  She told us that she had suspected them of being active in this area, and that they would indeed be behind such attacks, if they were.  With her suspicions coupled with our own, the path before us was clear.  We would go into the woods and seek the truth of the matter.  Sheena warned us to be cautious, for two sun elf rangers had gone into the woods with the very same task in mind, and had not been seen since, though, she mentioned, that they had found one foot…

After we left Sheena, we came across Sinyalla, who'd managed to recover a tooth that had come from the reptilian creature that had attacked the farmer.  None of us knew what it was, so we went to the temple of Oghma, and found Saldenon.  Sal only had to take one quick glance at it, and told us that the tooth was from a creature called a crocodile.  He explained, since none of us had ever heard of such, that the creatures usually lived in the warmer lands, that they were indeed, reptilian and scaly, similar to dragons, only much smaller, and more stupid.  Smaller, of course, being at least 6 feet in length, with a mouth full of teeth, and jaws that could crush bone.  Joy...  

We didn't bother with any delay, since it was still early in the afternoon.  We set off into the woods, heading in the direction that Sheena had indicated would lead us to the Darkwatch part of the forest.  

We hadn't gone more that an hour or two in, when one of Sal's "relatives" dropped by for a visit.

I can hardly explain what it felt like when Sal's uncle appeared.  For a start, the creature…and I use that term loosely, was over 15 feet tall…at least.  He…it?…was covered in black, icky, scale and spike covered skin, and had a jaw and teeth that put me in mind of Sal's description of a crocodile.  A long tail, with barbs at the end, and the stench of sulphur and brimstone completely the bare bones of my description.  Simply put, Sal's uncle was a demon, no doubt straight from the hells…and he had a task for us.  

My first instinct was to run…my second was to go down fighting…but in the end, I listened, for I had little choice.  

The demon greeted Saldenon cheerfully, saying, "greetings nephew…you have the smell of my brother…you must be his great, great grandson…"and other such things that no sane person would ever want to hear.  Saldenon seemed shocked, but only for a moment, as he regarded his "uncle" curiously.  I'm beginning to worry about Sal…I wonder how much longer we can trust him…if, indeed, it ever was wise to trust him…  

The demon proceeded to tell us that we would soon come in contact with something he wanted…a metal hand with ivory stones for fingernails.  He stated that when we found it, we were to bring it to him, and perhaps, he would give us some information we needed.  Now, I may not be an expert in religious matters…but I'm by no means ignorant.  Jael spoke of demons and creatures of the hells, and had many words with us on said matter.  Most importantly, though, he told us folk should never make deals with demons, for the demon always wins in the end.  So, I stated as much, saying that I would do nothing for a demon, not for any reason, then turned to Guar and Durand, who were, after all, of a priestly bent, and told them to do something.  I do believe Durand tried, even as the demon taunted both clerics, daring them to try and "turn" him.  Nothing happened.  And then, the demon forced me to go back on my word.  In order to convince me he meant business, he showed me an image in a ball of light that he conjured.  I saw Andar…chained to a table, with a large blade poised over a very…sensitive part of his body.  There was fear and anger in his eyes, as his struggles failed to release him from his bonds.

"You will help me," the demon threatened, "Or this one will suffer an eternity of pain."  I felt something inside me twist with pain.  I'm a bloody fool, and that's all there is too it.  Why the hells had I ever decided that dallying with Andar…and Dazelin, and Inialos, for that matter, was a good idea?  By doing so…by becoming friendly with them…I'd given the demon…and any other enemies I managed to accrue, a hold over me.  A very strong hold, for I could not allow the innocent to suffer…especially not when I happened to like said "innocent" far too much for my own good.  And what happened to my vow to keep people away?  AAAHH!  I am so weak.  Why can't I ever keep a promise?  And now I'd endangered some I…  I sighed.  I had no choice.  I felt sick at thought…but I would not sign over my soul, or anything else.  The demon wanted the hand…he would have it, and not a thing more.  So I agreed, but demanded a contract:  the hand in exchange for the release of our friends and family…nothing more.  

Kedra and Durand also protested.  A vision of Kedra's brother… suffering…although I can hardly see as how someone spilling ale on the floor would make anyone cry…convinced her to sign.  A graphic description of how the demon would visit Durand's younger sister, and rape her, all the while pretending to be Durand convinced His Lordship to sign…although for a moment, Durand seemed to waver.  Some brother…  Guar signed once Kedra and I both did, though he signed under "reluktinse" as he put it.  Saldenon signed it with any persuasion, still looking a bit awed…and perhaps envious?…of his "uncle."  Sinyalla signed after the demon made some lewd gestures at her… which I believe, went right over Sinyalla's little head, with a foot of air to spare.  The demon finished with his own signature, then claimed he would meet with us again in three days for the gauntlet.  Then he vanished.  By the time I'd thought to use the comprehend languages spell I'd learned from Wolcott on the demons signature, so we could know his true name…Jael was always adamant that knowing a demon's true name was the best way to get rid of it…he was gone.  I vowed, however, that when the demon returned, I would demand to see the contract and try it then.  I wanted no more unannounced visits from Sal's "uncle."

We were attacked later, by a large group of wolves. Most proved to be true wolves, and went down with only a few hits, a few arrows.  But one was a were-creature…not a crocodile, but some strange greenish, furred crossbreed with a wolf.  Silver arrows did the trick with that one, but it managed to take Guar, and use the half-orc as a full body shield.  However, Guar went into a rage, and the were-thing was dead before it had a chance to realize the nature of its demise.

The next person we came across was a pretty, and somewhat scantily clad half-elf woman, sitting up in a tree.  She claimed to be a druid, and was "concerned," for she had heard of the goings on, and was "afraid" of the "bad" druids that had, indeed, taken up residence in the Darkwatch.  She was "glad" that we were going to battle the others, but was too "frightened" to go herself.  All of her attention was directed at Durand, who was lapping it up, looking at the girl like a puppy stares at its owner.  The girl, Mia, batted her eyelashes, and smiled a sugary, confection of a smile.  I felt like retching.  I glanced over at the others, and realized, that most of the rest of the party believed the girl's "aren't I cute and innocent?" act…except for Saldenon, who caught my eyes.  I saw, that he too was suspicious.  If the People of the Black Blood were in the woods so nearby, why hadn't they attacked this druid…especially when she was so sickeningly "good."  No…something wasn't right here…and I wasn't the only one who knew, at least.  Durand managed to talk the girl out of her tree, and convince her to come with us, that he would protect her.  Ha!  It's truly sad to see a man so led around by his balls…His Lordship obviously needed to have a good tumble, seeing as his judgment was clearly suffer under the affects of his abstinence.  Mia clung to Durand like a second skin, as we continued on.  

It wasn't much longer before we reached our destination.  I knew we were there as soon as the green growth stopped and we entered a forest full of dead, twisted, and unhealthy looking trees.  There was no sound…not even a bug or a bird…like the only thing living in this part of the forest were the trees…and only just, with them.  There was a small breeze, which caused the dry branches to rustle together, creating a noise that put me in mind of skeletons, and death.  Damned, bloody, creepy…even worse that a forest after a fire.  This was wrong to me.  

We found the path, and it lead to a clearing.  There was a type of altar standing before a huge, crude statue of a beast.  A representation of the evil god of hunting and violence, called Malar, so Saldenon said.  The Altar was blackish…  Evil.  There appeared to be no one in the clearing, but if an ambush would come, now would be the time for it.  Thinking back to the tactics of the Eldereth Veluuthra, I scrambled up into one of the trees.  The elven archers had been annoying, and difficult to beat…and so, too, would I be, if battle began.

But it was only one, at first.  A half-orc, like Guar.  He was standing atop the statue, even higher up than I was in my tree.  The volley of the usual questions went out: Who are you?  What are you doing here?  Are you one of the People of the Black Blood?  Why are you attacking the humans?  And so on and so forth.  The one did admit to being one of those we sought…and indeed, he recognized us as well, calling us experiments, and failures.  It was all very lovely, and we were all set to attack him, and rid ourselves of another tattoo, when he offered us a deal.  He would fight one of us in combat.  If the one from our party won, he vowed he would remove the symbol, and leave this forest, and let the villagers alone.  He did not say what would happen if we failed.  I'm sure he knew that even if the one did, the rest of us would fight until we died.  I asked him, though, why we should treat him, or his challenge with any honor, since he had none, had not treated us with honor when he had put his mark on our arms, in an attempt to control us.  He laughed, and from the woods, from every direction in the clearing came more creatures…a score and more, to be exact…some in human forms, and some…not.  Twenty six to six…not very good odds…especially with the twenty six being able to change their shapes into the forms of animals, and worse.  Oh, I could probably handle my share…and Durand, and maybe even Sal and Kedra.  Sinyalla would fall, though, and Guar was already tired from his earlier rage, and would not fare well. And I don't know how much of the slack I could have taken up.  

So we agreed on the battle, but before we could decide on a "champion," Saldenon rushed forward an attacked the half-orc, who jumped to the ground.  

The battle was pathetic, really.  Saldenon tried, I'll give him that, but whatever a "psion" was, (I think it's just a fancy word for a wizard, but Saldenon insists he is not) and whatever a "psion" can do, it did not help Sal.  He managed to take the upper hand once, but then the half-orc shifted his shape…to that of a crocodile…only standing upright…a were-crocodile?  Then it was all over for Sal.  My strange, fellow party member dropped like a stone in the water.  Durand healed him before Sal was too far gone to retrieve though.

            The were-crocodile, leader of the People of the Black Blood, laughed.  He offered us another chance.  Another battle, two hours from now, when both he, and we had a chance to heal up.  Having little other options for the moment, we agreed.

            The tide turned in our favor, the second battle.  I was willing to try, but with Durand and Guar, who'd rested up by then, bickering over who would go next, I decided to let them have their go.  A toss of the coin, and Tymora favored Guar.  Half-orc went against half-orc, this time with weapons.  Spear against axe.  The were-crocodile was strong and fast, but Guar bested him in both fields.  It took three hits…just three! And the were-crocodile was bloodied, and beaten.  He held his spear out cross-length, and yielded to Guar.  Guar, however, raised his axe to finish the other.  Knowing this would be bad, for if we killed the yielding leader, the others would surely attack, and our victory would come at a potentially fatal price.  "No, Guar!"  We all shouted, and he paused.  "Stop!"  And he did, his chest heaving with the battle lust that so afflicts the followers of Tempus.  

            So we won.  Using blood from his own dripping wounds, the leader drew a symbol on the altar…the symbol that matched the one on our arms.  He instructed Guar to strike the symbol once.  Down came Guar's axe, and there was a silent, intangible, explosion…like a rush of wind.  Then the tattoos vanished, leaving us with two.  The leader told the others to depart, and slowly, the circle around us broke, as the other creatures filtered off into the trees.

            "I shall keep my promise," he stated, grimacing as though the words and most likely, his wounds as well, pained him.  Mia, who was still clinging to Durand, clapped her hands together at our victory.  Suddenly, the leader turned to her.  

            "Enough of your games, Mia.  We have lost.  You will come now."  She seemed to want to protest, then gave up her deceit, walking over to the leader…her leader.  The sweetness vanished like water under the sun's glare.

            "Ha!" I crowed.  "I knew you were false!"  She glared at me, her hand reaching for her dagger.  I reached for mine as well.  

            "Shall we play, bitch?"  I asked.

            "I'll tear you pieces," the other hissed.  But before we could engage in the fight that I was itching for, her leader drew her back. 

            "No, Mia."  With a huff, she stalked off into the woods, her eyes vowing that we would fight someday.  I grinned, and let her know that I would relish the challenge.  

            Finally, before the leader left, we asked about the gauntlet that the demon had wanted.  He gestured to a direction in the clearing, and said that we would find it beyond the tree line.  Then he, too, limped away.  

            It all felt too easy…true evil never gives up with so little fight.  We would see these ones again someday…I felt it.

            We found not only the hand, but a small pile of other treasure, as well.  Booty taken, no doubt, from their victims.  Among the treasure were two more items, like the dragon chalice.  That brought the total to five….five items with the same symbol on it…the chalice I carried, the gauntlet Durand wore, the amulet, and now a helm, and a shield.  All of them had a purpose that was as yet unknown to us, but I knew that it somehow tied into our tattoos…why else would each of our enemies have items with the same motif.  

            And among the treasures was a strange box, which contained a deck of ornate cards.  There was magic about them, I felt it, somehow…and equally, we all felt compelled to draw cards from the deck.  

            I don't know what the deck was about, only that strange things began to appear…and disappear.  A black box appeared before Saldenon, and one before Sinyalla.  Durand disappeared.  I felt a sense of dread…then it was gone, and a small gem appeared in my hand.  Guar shook his head, as though it pained him, then he too, had an item appear in his hands.  Saldenon, muttered to himself, and Guar shook his head again, then Durand reappeared…but he was not wearing his armor...or weapons…or anything else he'd owned that had been magical, save for the gauntlet.  Then, a figure appeared before him…and that figure was the epitome of Death, personified.  I somehow knew, as did everyone else, that if any of us dared to get involved with the fight, that we would face Death as well.  But as Durand was losing, growing weaker, I took pity on him, for he had only a small dagger.  I threw my longsword to the ground near Durand's feet, and threw the shield we'd found among the treasure.  It made all the difference.  Durand fought back…until the figure suddenly vanished… defeated.  Kedra ended up having a helmet appear in front of her, but nothing more ominous than that.  Then, when we had all drawn from the deck, the cards vanished, as though they'd never been, leaving us with strange new items, and questions that we could not answer.  Damned, but isn't my life so odd, sometimes?  I'll have to ask Daz about it when we get back…  I stopped suddenly, remembering that, when I got back, I would have to apologize to Andar for what happened…and to do my best to try to push Andar away…to make my relationship with Daz business only….after all, it would be the only way to keep them safe.  Sigh…why can't things ever be easy?

            We went back to Highmoon, and stayed at the inn that night, planning to return to our usual haunting ground up in Ashabenford in the morning.  Now, I don't know whether it was the demon, the battle with the were-crocodile, stress, or just plain madness, but Sal went weird that night.  He went into the tavern as soon as we returned and got himself down right plastered.  Now, it might not have been so bad, but Sal proved to be one of those gods-awful annoying, loud, quarrelsome drunks.  He ranted on, and eventually a set of equally wasted Dalesmen started getting pissed.  The party members managed to calm them the first time, even as we tried to get Sal to leave off on his bender, and head to bed.  The miserable little demon-spawn was having none of it…and with him able to out run, and practically out maneuver every member of the party, there wasn't a whole lot we could do without an out hurting him.  Then, of course Guar just had to get involved, when the Dalesmen came back, looking once more to stir up trouble.  At that point, I departed the company of the party, not wanting to get in a potentially fatal bar fight.  I left Durand there, trying to calm everything down.  I didn't really care what the hells Guar and Sal did, so long as they didn't kill anyone…I just wasn't in the mood for their shit that night.  I felt this terrible guilt, and a weight in my stomach that only brought to mind my past dreads…the feelings I felt before I returned to the church…before I found Gull.  I prayed that the demon would keep his end of the bargain…would not harm Andar, or the others…but there was a part of me…the part that could not see hope, for hope against my curse seemed foolish at best…that feared that I would return to Ashabenford, only to find that the demon had returned Andar's corpse, and not the living person that I fear I'm growing far too attached to.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  I should be thinking with my head…I'd thought I'd numbed my heart…hidden it away…but I'm not as strong as I thought…I could feel that damned, troublesome piece of my body beating away in my chest…could feel the very pulse of it in my throat.  Why couldn't I be stronger, like Gull?  But then again…if Gull was so strong…his heart so cold, then what was I?  Damn it all to the nine hells!  I would die for those I care about…. so why did the gods and fate force me endure their deaths instead?!  Andar told me of a goddess, Beshaba…the sister to Tymora, who is the outlander goddess of bad luck. I'd always thought, that living on the Moonshaes, there were only two gods whose attention I could attract, and so only two whom I could blame from my woe.  I could never fault the Earthmother…not she who saved me from the water…I can forgive her for keeping the nature of my curse a secret, for it is not for me to pry in her affairs.  So I blamed Tempus…but in the past weeks…nay, months now, since being returned to the mortal world…I'm beginning to see the error in my faulting Tempus…grave error, I think.  Tempus, as a god, may ride along with death, but it is not his fault that death strikes those I would keep safe.  In fact, I'm beginning to learn, from traveling with Guar and speaking with the priests at the Abbey of the Sword, that I do, in fact follow Tempus, in my own way.  Tempus is a god of battle, yes, but of honorable battle.  I may not be the greatest person, but I do try my best to be honorable when fighting enemies…honoring my words, even if it means I must let someone go, whom I do not think should be let go.  Oh hells and damnation, it's become a bloody nuisance…all these conflicting goals, and vows.  Be honorable, but no mercy for the wicked?  I'm having trouble trying to keep the two in balance.  But I'm straying, again.  I've been cursing Tempus, all these years, yet it never occurred to me that, while I lived in the Moonshaes, I once lived somewhere beyond them…somewhere in this outlander world for six years before that.  I don't know whom a six-year old girl could have upset enough to be cursed for the deed, but it occurs to me that there are many outlander gods that might have once been my gods.  Perhaps one of them was angry that I'd turned away, to the Earthmother.  And though we only know Tempus and the Earthmother in the Moonshaes, who is to say that the reach of others gods have no power there?  Outlanders moved through Caer Callidyr every day, each carrying with them a belief of a god.  The other gods, then, have a hold in the Moonshaes by virtue of their followers alone, right?  So I was thinking on what Andar told me…that there is a goddess of bad luck, who is sister to Tymora…funny that gods can be related…I always though of them as kind of a sentient energy, that can choose it's form…but maybe the gods are more like us.  Indeed, I have heard that the outlander goddess of magic, and the god of strife and evil, were both once mortals, not more than a few decades ago.  So perhaps, then, as I try to come to a point in my ramblings, it is this goddess, Beshaba whom I should be cursing?  I don't know though…  These days I hardly feel I know very much, for all my vaunted knowledge of the Moonshaes, what I know is small and outdated here in the greater world.  I guess I'll have to think more on this, but later, for I'm getting tired.  It's finally quiet in the tavern, so I guess they managed to get Saldenon to bed…or else everyone died…the patrons by Sal's drunken wrath, and Sal by way of consumption of far too much of that Dragon's Breath brew. 

            Things were well enough the next morning, except that Saldenon had such a roaring hangover, that he refused to get his gray-skinned backside out of bed, and swore most foully when we attempted to make him.  Guar left Sal a packet of herbs to take, which would help the odd man recover.  Guar…the very soul of kindness and death all wrapped up in one clean, Kedra-scrubbed, package.  We departed without Sal, telling him to take his rest, and catch up with us in Ashabenford.  He merely grunted something unintelligible at us, that I'm almost certain was a threat of death.  

            Our trip back was uneventful, and damned if Saldenon was back in Ashabenford no less that an hour behind us…and the rest of us on horses!  

            I stayed with Daz for the night, telling him everything that had happened.  When I spoke of the cards, he grimaced, and told me that I was lucky to have gotten away so unscathed…that cards were a very powerful artifact that can grant great power and wealth, but can take away your very soul, and cause you to lose everything you ever had…even your life.  I was, indeed, grateful, and vowed never to touch another deck of cards again, without ascertaining their magical nature first.  Daz laughed and said that chances were I would never encounter another such deck again in my lifetime.  

            As for the demon, he listened, but said that without the name of the demon, there was nothing to be done, except to kill it, and even then, the demon would only be sent back to its home and trapped there for a century.  

            I slept with Dazelin that night, figuring that I was being selfish…but unable to resist.  When morning came, however, I did my level best to explain my curse to him, to show him that to continue on the way we were, as lovers, that it would endanger his life.  That infuriating, irritating…drow…merely laughed.  He said that he doubted I was cursed, and that I'd linked a series of unfortunate coincidences in my mind, and was using the result to hold people at bay, including "your priest, whom I notice you seem to curse about more than any other person of your acquaintance," he said.  Then, just to prove how clever he was, he drew out some arcane item that he claimed could detect curses and such, and a moment later, smugly proclaimed that I was not cursed, and merely being overly dramatic, and that dramatics were no reason to end a mutually satisfying relationship.  I tried to tell him that it was the Earthmother…Chauntea who was somehow keeping the curse from being discovered, but he was having none of.

            "Why would a goddess of planting and the earth have a reason to hide a curse from you…a loyal follower?  Hmm?"  He queried.  I could not think of an appropriate retort.  Damn that man, and damn all like him!  It's no wonder that the drow are so ill considered in the lands, if they were all as irritating, stubborn, and suicidal as Dazelin Coloara was!!  Annoyed, I left my armor with him, so he could repair it, handed him the last of my payment for my cutlass, an assortment of magical things that the rest of the party hadn't wanted, and stormed out.  He actually had the audacity to chuckle at me as I left, and I heard him ask,

            "So this means you won't be back tonight?  Well then, I'll see you in a few days…I'm certain that you'll be unable to resist the call of my company for longer than that."  Men!!

            After dealing with Dazelin, I headed up to the 'Roost, to see how the work was progressing.  I didn't really want to go up there, since I knew that Andar wouldn't be there…probably still a prisoner of that damned demon…I suppose that "damned demon" is a redundant statement, but I don't really care.  However, you can imagine my surprise when I came upon Andar in the fields around the keep, working alongside a dozen of the locals he'd hired, clearing a field, and tilling the soil, for planting.  He'd already finished one of the other fields, and was more than halfway done with this one.  

            I confess, I stood there, staring like a cretin for a few moments.  I suppose I assumed that the demon meant to keep Andar captive until the glove was delivered to him…yet here he was, unharmed and looking no worse…in fact not even a little unhappy at what had happened.  He glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun, and grinned when he saw me.  _Grinned?_  

            "Raine!"  He called, walking up, brushing the dirt on his hands off on his pants.  I kept my head down, not really wanting to meet his eyes.  He tried to kiss me, but I stopped him before he could.  

            "I'm sorry Andar," I said simply.  

            "About what?"  He asked, sounding confused.  _About **what?!**_

            "About the demon.  If you hadn't know me, I'm sure it wouldn't have taken you.  Are you alright?"

            "Am I all right?"  He asked incredulously.  "I think that perhaps you were hit on the head down in Deepingdale."  He forced my chin up with one hand, and pushed my bangs away with the other, peering into my eyes.

            "Well, your pupils are the same size, and I don't see any bruis.."

            "I didn't get hit in the head!"  I snapped waspishly, as I pushed him away again.  "There was a demon, and he had you…I saw it!  Hells, I signed a bloody contract with it to keep you safe!"

            "Raine…what are you talking about?"  Andar asked, sounding perhaps a wee bit worried at that point.

            "You must remember!  I saw you!  You were chained and tied, with a huge blade swinging over you!  It said, and I quote "You will help me, or this one will suffer an eternity of pain," unquote!"  I shouted at him.  

            "Raine, nothing happened.  I've been here the whole time you were gone, working the fields…they can attest to that," Andar waved at the field hands.  

            "But…I signed the…he lied!!  I thought demons couldn't lie!  That…that son of bloody, poxed, underfed, overpriced, vermin-ridden, foul-countenanced whore!"  I cursed…and went in on to repeat some of the more choice words I could think of, in several other languages.  Andar's eyes widened briefly…now I'll get in trouble for cursing in front of a priest, on top of everything else.  

            I finally managed to get the whole story out, restraining my urge to curse as best I could.  The demon had, apparently tricked me, and never taken Andar at all.  It didn't matter though…all that really mattered was that the demon "might have" taken Andar…because Andar knew me.  So I told Andar that I thought we shouldn't be involved anymore…at least not as lovers.  I tried to explain to him about my curse, that he would never be safe as long as he stayed involved with me in anyway.  I told him that it would probably be better if he returned to the Abbey, as well.  I could probably find another priest to do the job I'd meant for Andar, and that way, at the Abbey, he would be safe from me.  I gave him all the reasons why, logically, things would be better this way.

            That man…that miserable, bloody, damned, mule-headed, pig of a man…!  If I didn't know better, I would've sworn that he and Dazelin had commiserated on their answers, so similar were they.  Andar laughed!  The miserable sod.  He actually laughed, and said that I wasn't cursed…that he'd checked, back when I'd asked him to see if I was possessed because of the tattoos, that Chauntea would have revealed it to him if I was.  I tried to tell him that Chauntea was hiding the truth for some reason…even from her own priests.  He replied that Chauntea had no reason to lie…that what had happened to me was horrible, but was surely no more than a terrible coincidence.  I wanted to scream…I believe I did.  Why the hells couldn't anyone besides me see the truth?!  Andar continued on to say that he had every intention of staying at the keep, and doing the job I'd offered him.  He added further, that even had there been a curse, he wouldn't've cared.  And he saw no reason why we should stop being lovers, seeing as we…um…fit so well together.  

            "Fine!"  I shouted at him.  "Go ahead and stay.  Get yourself killed… see if I care!"  He just smiled that infuriating, smug, superior smile that he had whenever he thought he'd won.  I wanted to smack him.  Instead, I took a deep breath, and stomped off, towards the keep.  I managed to calm down a bit, as the dwarf who was in charge of the construction told me what they'd done already, and what they were planning to work on next.  They'd already finished shoring up the sinkholes, and repairing the ceilings beneath the keep, as well as putting up the bee wall.  Repairs were currently being done on the elven hall, but they said that they could not get into the one door down there.  I assured him that there was nothing to fix in the shrine, and not to worry about it.  

            I went down to the shrine after a bit, and had a talk with Lyklor.  He seemed indifferent to the repairs so long as no one tried to get into the crypts.  I told him that I would return in a few days and begin cleaning the shrine.  He replied that he would look forward to it.  

            I returned to Ashabenford, avoiding Andar as I left.  I swear he was still laughing.

I met up with the demon again later that day…or rather, he found me, in the tavern, having a drink to soothe my frazzled nerves.  He didn't look demonic…more like a greasy merchant…but I knew it was him all the same.  

"Well?  Do you have it?"  he asked, as he sat down besides me.  

"Yes.  But Why should I give it to you…you broke the contract."

"Really?  How is that?"  He asked, silkily.

"You never had Andar to begin with.  The contract said that we would give you the gauntlet in return for the unharmed release of Andar, and the others.  You never had them."

"Did I not?"

"No.  Andar says he was here all the time."

"Perhaps he only thought he was here.  Just perhaps, I erased the memory of his confinement from his mind.  Although, if you would like him to remember all of the fear and helplessness I'm certain he felt…" he trailed off, grinning evilly.

"No,"  I grumbled.  Damn that demon.  I suppose he could be telling the truth…but I had no way of knowing for certain.  I reached into my bag, making a good show of loudly rifling through the contents…when in reality, I was casting a spell to understand and be able to read all languages.  I came up with the gauntlet a moment later.  The demon reached for it.

"Not yet.  I want to see the contract again," I stated.

"Oh, very well.  The contract appeared.  I grasped it and studied the demon's signature for a moment.  The name, now translated to common for me, was an awful, long, seemingly unpronounceable thing that began with an X.  I won't write it here…just in case…but I know it well enough to reproduce it later, if I wanted.  I handed it back to him, and then the glove as well.

"There.  You have what you wanted, now get the hells out of here, and don't ever bother returning."  He laughed, and tucked the item away.  Just before he went to put the contract away, I saw the letters move, and the words on the parchment change.  It now read something to the effect of "…and this contract, which is not a contract at all, but rather just a piece of paper signed by a group of fools, is not valid, and they have done my work for me and neither lose, nor gain anything in return for doing so…"  The demon saw where I was looking, no doubt saw my look of outrage…but before I could ever catch my breath, he was out the door and gone.

I had a few more drinks, and was only mostly drunk by the time I arrived back at the Andar's camp near the keep.  I just wanted to relax a bit, and take my mind off the whole damned day, but Andar was being stubborn.  He wouldn't even touch me, saying that it was my idea that we not sleep together anymore.  Frustrated beyond all tolerance, I opened my mouth to scream.  Fortunately, Andar decided to be intelligent for once in his life, and kissed me before I could get a sound out.  I almost forgave him for being such a bastard… but I remembered, just in time, that as long as I don't forgive him, I can be angry at him…and if I'm angry at him, I won't like him, and if I don't like him, then he won't die.

I am such a bloody weakling.  Really.  Within two days, everything was back the way it had been before I left for Deepingdale.  I swear that I have no willpower at all.  I should just give up and accept my fate, but I can't bear to have people I like…people that might even, potentially be my friends, die.  It's not fair.  I can't even stay mad at Dazelin…and he really _is_ a jerk…most of the time.  And trying to keep a grudge against Andar is like trying to cage the wind.  He's too damned nice…that's problem.  Sigh.  

It took me about three days to clean up Lyklor shrine and crypt.  The majority of the problem was just dust, and once the centuries of dust were washed away, the place looked nearly as good as new.  Lyklor was only minorly irritating, as he supervised the whole affair, and was constantly pointing out spots I had missed, or a cobweb he wanted removed.  After a few hours of that, I told him that if he wanted to order me around, he had to do it in the ancient elven language.  He seemed confused at my request.  I told him that I wanted to learn ancient elven, so that, on the off chance I ever went back to that Myth Drannor place, or came across some other parchment written in ancient elven, I would be able to understand it.  I hadn't really thought about it until that moment, but it seemed like a good idea…if only to get Lyklor to do something constructive, and stop pestering me.  So I began my lessons in ancient elven, even as I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the hells out of ancient tiles.

I don't know why I do these things to myself.  It's truly sad that I get more rest when I'm adventuring, than I do when I'm supposed to be resting.

            Over the week, my bruises started to appear again.  It happened just as it always had before I'd died.  I was walking in the woods near the keep, attempting to clean out the sally port, when I doubled over in pain.  I felt as though someone had just slammed me in the stomach.  I felt the stings of pain for a few minutes, and then it faded away, leaving a few new bruises.  It was odd…nothing had happened like it since before I'd died…I don't know whether to be comforted that they were back, or annoyed that they hadn't gone away for good.  I decided not to care.  I looked up a moment or two later, with a feeling that I was being watched, to see Inialos sitting on a log nearby.  I don't know if he saw what happened or not, but he didn't mention it if he did.  He helped me a bit, then we sat down for a while.  Since he was there I decided to ask two favors of him that I been thinking about.  It took me a minute to wrest control of the conversation away from him, but I managed.  First I asked him about the whereabouts of the Kelerandri family…Lyklor's elven descendants.  Inialos hadn't heard of them, but said that he could probably ask around, and that someone might know something.  One task down…I had promised Lyklor I'd find out what I could, and Inialos was the only I could think of who might be able to help.  Second, I asked him if he knew of any ruined elven towers in the area.  He shrugged and told me that there was one on the other side of the 'Roost.  I shook my head.

            "No, I already know about that one.  That's the one I want to try to rebuild…but I'm trying to find out if there are any other ruined towers in the area that I can scavenge stone from.  I kind of want them to be elven towers, so that the new one will be as close to the original one as possible."

            "Why's that?"  Inialos asked.

            "…just a promise to a friend.  I know it's going to be a tough task, and it'll take a while, but I'm in no real hurry.  So I was wondering if you knew of any ruins…preferably ones that still have stones."  Inialos rubbed his head.

            "Well, I know of a few, but I can try to find out what I can if you want."  

            I think that I thanked him quite properly…he certainly didn't complain.  Now, I know, here I am trying to warn off Dazelin and Andar…but not Inialos.  The reason for that is that I don't really see Inialos as being in any real danger.  No one really knows that I know him…and I can safely say that beyond casual friendship, and the occasional tumble in the woods, I wasn't forming any lasting attachments to Inialos, so I figure he's safe enough.  Actually curse-wise, I don't really think Daz was in too much danger either…but still…sigh…I just don't really know.  In any case, I figure that if worse comes to worse, I still have another few years before the next cycle of the curse.  I can always up and leave then…it might hurt, but…oh well.

            I went back into Ashabenford a few days later, to see what everyone was up to.  I found Durand lounging about the inn.  As for the others, he told me that Sal had left town a few days ago, and had yet to return, that Guar was down at the Abbey of the Sword, Kedra was up in Glen, "upgrading" her magical axe, "Apocalypse," and Sinyalla had just gone over to the drow wizard's house buying something.

            So I headed over to Dazelin's to see what Sinyalla was up to, preferring even the "candle's" company to Durand's sulkiness.  Sinyalla proved to be buying a bag of holding.  Dazelin was apparently done with my sword for the day, and I noticed that he looked a bit haggard.  After Sinyalla left, I asked him if he was okay.  He merely replied that my sword was the most powerful thing he'd ever tried to enchant, and that such undertaking was very draining.  I shrugged and said that I wasn't forcing him to do this, and that he was being paid well for the work.  He replied that he wasn't complaining, and that, indeed, he was enjoying the challenge.  I ended up feeling bad anyhow, despite trying not to.  I stayed the night with him…just sleep, not sex.  He seemed a little more relaxed the next morning, after having been given a thorough massage from me…that was in no way sensual…though it could've been, had I wanted it to be.

So, I decided to pitch my next idea to him.  I was still thinking of ways to make more money for my keep.  I know, it probably would be easier to just go out and rob someone, but I know better that to steal from those in the area where I live.  Hells, in Caer Callidyr, I used to walk to the other side of the city, just so that no one would recognize me if I was seen.  And anyhow, I have no problem with doing legal work…it's just that on the Moonshaes…no one ever wanted me.  

            So my new idea, one I had come up with during the time spent cleaning the crypt, was a simple one.  I'd seen folk around the dale admiring my tattoos…and I am not braggart or anything, but I am a fairly good hand at creating similar tattoos.  Dazelin had a lot of extra space in his house, and he liked to make money.  So I proposed that I would set up a small place in the front of his shop, and offer my services to those who wanted to go under the needle.  I would give Daz a percentage of the profits, and him not having to do anything but collect.  Daz, always one for a good scheme, agreed, on the condition that I had to clean out the area I wanted to use.  So I spent two more days cleaning out a small, partially walled area at the front of his shop, and setting up the things I would need.  Tebryn, the damned cat was almost as irritating as his master, kept getting in my way trying to gain my attention so I would pet him… apparently he'd decided that he wasn't getting enough attention from Dazelin, and seeing as I had a perfectly good set of hands, that I was the next best target.

  I figured Dazelin's shop was perfectly located for a people who wanted to get a tattoo.  Just outside town, it was not too far drunks to walk, and yet isolated enough so that the teenage boys, and such, wouldn't be seen by anyone who might convince them not to spend their coin on ink.  Yes, it was a perfect set up.  I would open the shop anytime I want adventuring, and close it whenever I was.  Plus, this way, I could leave most of my inks and such there, and not have to worry about them getting stolen, or ruined.  Who, after all, would bother to rob Dazelin, seeing as he was a known friend of the Riders of Mistledale?  With some of the profits I hoped to make, I figured I could start hiring some soldiers of my own for the keep, to go with the twenty that would be arriving once it went up.

            I spent the rest of the week ordering the furniture and such that I would need for the keep.  

            About a week and half after arriving at Ashabenford, the party met up again…or rather Durand rounded all of us up and told us to follow him.  Now, being a contrary person, I wanted to know why His Lordship wanted us to go with him.  Durand was being a dick, as usual, and just kept insisting that he come with us, and no reason why.  Finally, when I...and, Kedra and Guar, for I've noticed of late, that whichever path I turn to take, so too, do they…refused to budge unless I knew why, Durand finally stated that there was someone who wanted to hire us for a job, and that he wanted us to meet with said person.  I do believe it highly infuriated him when I started walking and said that, that was all he'd had to say.  I think I heard him growl.

            He led us to the fancier of the taverns in Ashabenford, the Velvet Veil.  Waiting for us there was a man of obviously noble birth.  Tall, dark haired, dark eyed, and dressed in black, he was stunningly handsome.  I was torn between wanting to openly admire him, and being put off by the fact that he was a noble.  Apparently, he heard that Durand had "joined" up with us and wanted our help.  I suppose word was getting around already about our little battles with the Zhents and the Cultists.  He offered all of us drinks, we all accepted.  Then he began to talk.

            "Greetings.  I am Lord Falzo Hawklin.  I'm here on behalf of the crown of Cormyr.  We have a little problem, and we thought you might wish to help us out.  If you don't mind some traveling and dry air, and maybe giving a few brigands a good drubbing, this should be a nice outing for you."  We all waited for him to go on as he took a sip of his drink.

            "The crown is short on manpower at the moment, and we received a report two days ago of some brigands or troublemakers to the north, near Tilverton."  He grimaced, suddenly.

            "What used to be Tilverton, anyway," he amended.  "We need you to go there and get rid of the problem in whatever manner you see fit, give the local area a look around, then come back.  That's all there is to it.  Shouldn't put you out overly much.  You'll be rewarded and all that.  So are you in?"  

            "Now hold on, just a minute," I began, always the antagonist.  "Now, Durand here has pretty much given me the idea that this Cormyr is a kingdom of no small power, and that your Purple Dragons are nothing short of great.  Why don't you just have a few of your little soldiers trot their armored butts up there and check it out.  Why pay a bunch of adventurers?"  Durand shot me a dirty look, as though annoyed that I'd dared questioned one of his fellows.__

            "As I said, the crown…"  I interrupted again.

            "Do you actually follow a crown, or is a person…like a king or queen?"  I asked sweetly.

            "King Azoun, of course."

            "Then why don't you say the king?"  Lord Hawklin sighed, but did not seem to be getting as riled as Durand was looking at my interruptions.

               "Very well.  The kingdom of Cormyr is rather short on manpower right now, as I said.  As for the Purple Dragons, most of them are busy guarding the Black Crate.  I'm never going to get used to saying that.  My third cousin lived there before the disaster," he sighed and shook his head...looking almost pained.

            "What are you talking about?"  Kedra demanded.  He shook his head.  

            "Before I give you any details, I must know if you have agreed.  But, if you do, you must each swear an oath of loyalty to Cormyr and an oath of secrecy."  That stopped most of us dead in our conversational tracks.

            "No way…nothing doing.  I don't swear oaths of loyalty to anyone," I stated, crossing my arms under my breasts.  Kedra concurred.

            "My loyalty is to the dwarves…I ain't swearin' to no human king."  The nobleman seemed mildly confused at our reticence…maybe he thought that we would all be glad of the opportunity to swear to his kingdom.  Durand, however, was the one to throw a fit.  I can hardly believe how off the edge he went, even in retrospect.

            "We have been friends for three months now…I would have thought you all would have some respect by now…"  I laughed.

            "Respect?  Friendship?  You?  Your pardon, Your Lordship, but when have you ever treated the rest of us with respect?  If you said like commoners, then aye, I'd agree.  Comrades in battle, sure enough…but friends…nay.  And I'll say no oath of loyalty to anyone."  Durand got to his feet, his face red with anger.  Maybe he actually thought in his own mind that he had treated us well…but certainly not like equals.  He ranted on, growing agitated and worsening the situation.  Finally, Lord Hawklin spoke, and gave Durand a scathing set down.

            "Huntsilver, you are naught but the third son of a noble family…as such, if you wish respect you must earn it, and not demand it by acting as spoiled child."  Then Durand lost it.

            "That's it.  I will not be treated like this by anyone!"  Then, to my shock, he tore off his Purple Dragon tabard, and dropped it, and headed for the door.

            "Huntsilver, you will return this instant, and that is an order," Hawklin stated.  Durand did not even slow.

            "I quit," the Cormyrian brat shouted, then he slammed out of the tavern, leaving a momentary, uncomfortable silence.  Wow.  I never thought Durand would lose his cool so effectively.  I thought he'd worked hard to become one of the Purple Dragons, and he'd just thrown it away like so much trash.  And I thought I was a rebel…  After a moment, Sal, who looked nearly as surprised as the rest of us got up, and muttered,

            "I'll go after him."  I shrugged.  I didn't really care.  Durand has never gone out of his way to be friendly with me.  In fact, truth to be told, the only time we ever got along was in the heat of battle, when we worked together to accomplish the common task of defeating our enemies effectively.  I leaned back in my chair, as Sal headed out, walking at a pace that was faster than my horse, Apple, can canter.

            "And there is the measure of a noble," I laughed, surprised at the mild bitterness in my tone.  Maybe I am a cynic, but I suppose, somewhere inside, I'd hoped that Durand would be bettered by seeing how others than nobles lived… bettered for the acquaintances of the party...but apparently it was not to be.

            "Please," Lord Hawklin stated. "Do not use the measure of one as the scale to which you measure all."  I shrugged.

            "If it were just Durand, I wouldn't…but I know how nobles are…and I know that it is their own nature…an echo of the nature of royalty, which keeps me from swearing any oaths of loyalty to such."  

            "I would know why you hold such a low opinions of nobles," Hawklin stated, looking at me, even as he ordered another round of drinks.  I guess he assumed the Sal would manage to bring Durand back.  Kedra squealed happily as she and Guar dug into their huge mugs of ale.  I hardly think that Sinyalla was even paying any attention, though.  I'd nothing better to do with myself, so I decided to enlighten Lord Hawklin.  I suppose that in the long run, nothing but the truth, pounded into their noble skulls a thousand times and more would even awaken the rich folk to the way others lived.  Maybe I could do it…after all, it was akin to eating a whole bear carcass by yourself…impossible at first glance…but one bite at a time, and eventually there'd be naught left but bones.  Why not?  I had little enough pride to lose, and it's not as though any of the party remembers would care anyhow.  So I explained it to the Lord…life on the streets of "noble" cities…life in a church that never had enough room or money to take care of all who needed…watching through glass windows as one noble family consumed enough food in a month to feed an entire street for a year…the callous nature of nobles…life as a street rat.  And when I was through, when Guar and Kedra had taken the best of a keg of ale, there was little expression on the Lord's face.  I hardly know if he heard a word I'd said, or if it had affected him in anyway.  He merely nodded.

            "I see."  We spent the rest of the time engaging in general converse.  Now, I know that I'm a bit of a hypocrite…provoke and set him down one moment, flirt the very next.  I can hardly help myself sometimes…but he really was cute, noble or no.  I let him know in no uncertain terms that I would not be averse to "speaking" again with him, at a later date.  While he may not necessarily been interested, Lord Hawklin flirted back almost as outrageously as I did. I wasn't really trying to get him in bed, though as I let on, I would mind either.  The outcome was overly important…after all, I suppose in the reality, I have more troublesome lovers that a girl really needs at one time.  Still…stunningly handsome is not a trait you come across in a man on everyday basis…in any case I mostly flirted because it's something I like to do.

And then Saldenon was back, Durand's battered form over his shoulder.

            "What happened?"  Sinyalla asked, wide eyed.  Guar immediately got up and began digging out his herbs.  

            "The idiot was on his way to Tilverton without us, when he had a brawl with a few bugbears.  Needless to say he took the worse of the battle."  Guar began to heal Durand.  I was going to protest waking the bloody brat, but Guar was done by the time I'd thought to do so.  As soon as he was conscious again, Durand immediately got up, and headed for the door again.

            "Oh yes, so brave!  Such a leader!"  Saldenon taunted.  "And here I was beginning to think that you were beginning to go a good job, and you turn out to be a coward and a quitter!"  Durand jerked to a halt as though arrow-shot.

            "Yes, that's right…run away like a coward, and get yourself killed…it shall be no great loss…what need we a quitter in this party?"  Sal added.  The taunts finally worked.  Durand walked a few steps back towards us.  His teeth were gritted, his jaw locked solidly.  

            "Now then, Huntsilver.  Are you ready to sit down and listen, or shall we have a repeat of your childish antics?"  Durand almost bolted again, but, with visible effort, he sat down at his former seat.

            "Well, now that we can talk again…I will not ask you to swear to Cormyr, but I must insist upon the oath of secrecy."

            "Why?"  I asked.  Durand looked as though he wanted to hit me.

            "You may see things while out near the Black Crater that we might not want to get out to the general public yet.  I am only asking that you keep what you have seen there to yourself, telling only myself, and the captain of the Purple Dragons at the sight, to whom you will report."  I truly wanted to argue further, but I made the concession.

            "Very well, I shall hold the secrets of what I see as tightly as a noble holds to a promise," I added the last with false politeness.  I heard a gasp a growl and saw a widening of eyes around the table.  I knew, however, that it wouldn't be fair to judge one by the standards of all, so I amended my statement.

            "You need only prove that you are a man of your word, Lord Hawklin.  As long as you keep your word, I shall hold my tongue."

            "Fair enough," he agreed with a slight incline of his head.  The others were quick enough to offer up their vow of silence, when Lord Hawklin explained that by doing so, we would also be granted a writ stating that we were on the crown's business and were not to be delayed…and that it meant we would get free food and lodging anywhere in Cormyr for a month.  We do love free food.

            So we swore his oath, and he explained the details.  

            "There are a few things the crown would like you to keep in mind, of course, as you go your merry way.  Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you are not to interfere with the Purple Dragons staying at the black crater.  They have their own mission.  Your are to report to Captain Dunman when you arrive-ah, I forgot to say that you will be traveling to Tilverton by magic, as we don't have time for you to walk or ride there-and you should report the results of your expedition to the captain when your work is done.  A verbal report is all that's necessary, although you may have to go into some detail for her.  You will give me a similar report when you return here, and please give me all of the details you gave the good captain, if not more.  Other than myself, the captain, or higher representative of the crown, however, you are not to discuss your mission with anyone else.  You are not to talk about anything unusual you see at Tilverton.  The kingdom does not need a thousand new panicky rumors flying about what happened there…there are more than enough rumors already.  We spent a lot of time and trouble rerouting the Moonsea Ride around the black crater so that travelers would have the worst possible view of it.  What you see of the black crater must stay with you alone."  Boy do nobles ever love to hear the sound of their own voices!

            "Further, you are not to approach the black crater under any circumstances.  The soldiers and War wizards there are under strict orders to kill anyone who tires to get into the crater without authorization.  Your writs do not authorize any business with it.  You might not wish to draw near the crater in any case, as we have good suspicions that those who enter the pit are slain, their souls lost forever.  No one who has gone into the pit has ever come out, and we have been unsuccessful in recovering them, or even in divining their fates.  Just do your job, and let everyone else do theirs."

            "There is another matter."  Lord Hawklin sighed, then shook his head and smiled, faintly.  "You might actually consider this good news, I suppose.  The brigands appear to be using some ruins as their hideout.  We have reason to believe that these ruins are quite old, possibly Netherese in origin."  What in the hells is Netherese, I wonder?

            "You are to explore these ruins and see what they contain in the way of threats to Cormyr, remove those threats and report back on them.  That assumes that any threat exists of course, which might not be the case as the ruins have been very quiet for over a thousand years.  If you do find anything that would be of assistance to our realm, or of interest to the crown, we would be pleased to know of it of course.  Otherwise, you can keep what you find.  Just mop up the brigands."

            "That's about it.  As soon as you're ready, I can give you your writs, and we can be on our way."  We agreed, of course.  Lord Hawklin took us to a small, warehouse type building in town, later that evening.  It was mostly empty inside, but smelled of horses.  The room was illuminated by a bunch of glowing orbs near the ceiling.  Lord Hawklin motioned for us to wait by the doors, and then turned to face the doors on the far wall of the room.

            "In the name of the forest kingdom, and of Alusair, the Steel Regent, I bid you open," he said in a loud, strong voice that echoed throughout the room.

            The doors vanished, replaced by a whirling, sparkling pool of gray light about 16 feet across, hovering a foot off the ground.  The scene through the portal was that of a rocky wasteland among high hills.  Several dozen armored folk, all wearing the same purple tabard that Durand wore until this afternoon, were arranged in a semi-circle before the portal.  They watched us with mild interest that quickly faded.  One yawned, and two went back to a previous conversation after a brief scowl in our direction.  One of them walked over to the portal, and peered through without entering.

            "The sun has not set on the forest kingdom," she said stiffly.

            "Nor shall it as long as we hold it in the sky," replied Hawklin.  "Captain, please see that my companions here get food and rest.  They've come to clear away the vermin you reported.  Their paperwork is all in order.  All is as before?"

            "No change, your lordship," she said, looking tired and grim.  Her eyes had an oddly haunted look to them.  "Our friends from Waterdeep are preparing a report for the regent.  It should be ready by tomorrow."

            "Thank you captain," Hawklin replied.  "We will be ready to receive it.  May the gods be with you."

            "I pray that they are, your lordship."  Then the captain waved us through.  As soon as we stepped through the portal, the captain silently escorted us to a large circular tent nearby.  Our paperwork was examined in detail…even though Hawklin himself had just gone over it before we left.  Damned bureaucrats.  We were given food and place to stay for the night.  As we were lead to a tent, I got a good view of this black crater that was once a city.  It was, simply that a huge black crater.  There was nothing living around or in it, but for the 40 or so soldiers patrolling around.  The crater was dark inside, as though it were filled with some sort of black fog.  There was nothing left standing…not even walls.  There were strange movements in the pit, that couldn't really be discerned.  Some soldiers noticed me looking and I was warned once again not to approach the crater any closer than I already was.  They didn't have to tell me twice…I knew evil at work when I saw it.  Something about that crater gave me the creeps something awful.  It was a horror right out of one of Jael's tales…a place where the Earthmother's presence had been killed.  I felt more at ease walking through the ruins of Myth Drannor than standing three miles away from that abomination.  I didn't really sleep all that well that night…and I had no dream…which made me more uncomfortable that I would've thought, as I'd been having it almost every night for the past few weeks.

            We left at dawn, armed with an accurate map to the ruins we were to explore.  We were approaching by afternoon, and slowed as the rise of the ruins appeared in front of us.  It was decided that someone should scout ahead.  To that affect, Saldenon volunteered seeing as he was faster than the damned wind.  Trying out yet another of my newly learned spells, I cast a spell of invisibility on him.  Strangely enough, no one in the party seemed overly surprised at my sudden talents.  Sigh.  A good surprise just isn't what it used to be.  They didn't even bother to ask me how I'd learned to cast.

            Sal reported back less than a minute later, and stated that there was a large group of Orcs and a few wolves up by the ruins.  Seeing as they were just Orcs, and there really wasn't a whole hell of a lot of ways we could approach silently…not with ole "clink and clank"…i.e., Durand and Guar, with us.  So we just charged out from our hiding places, and attacked.  The Orcs did their best in trying to put up a good fight, but in the end, they hardly proved to be a challenge at all.  We didn't quite kill them all, as we headed down into the ruins to finish off any that were hiding.  There was nothing below, except for a large pentagonal archway on the east wall of the chamber.  It was made of a stone that even Kedra couldn't identify…but had no purpose we could think of.  We searched about, but found no signs that it was a secret door of any kind.  Getting an idea that something wasn't quite as it seems, I ran back outside to get one of the not-quite-dead-yet Orcs.  On the way back in, I noticed a pile of bodies that we'd missed before.  They'd all been killed fairly recently, and stripped of anything of worth…but many had a familiar symbol on their clothing, and skin…the Cult of the Dragon.  Well, now, that was intriguing.  Leaving behind the corpses, I took the Orcs back down and had Guar heal it.  

            Now, it obviously knew something, but the little piggy wasn't talking…and Guar and I both did our level best to put the fear of the gods in that orc.  Strangely enough, it was Sinyalla, who cast some manner of charm spell, who got it to talk.  I guess she is occasionally useful for something beyond being a living candle.  The orc revealed that the doorway was a portal of sorts, and that the words to open it were "Part the Veil of the universe for me!"

            So we knocked it out, and tried it.  The surface of the portal began to slowly change hue, until the back wall of it vanished entirely.  There was a smell in the air that reminded me of the smell of the air after lightning has struck.  Cautiously we went through, and into the next room.  We were in a square room, with 16 more portals.  Figuring that we had to activate theses portals in the same way, we went to one that had definite trail leading to it, and tried it.  After it cleared, we saw what looked to be a cesspit.  Bones of animals, people, and other garbage littered the ground before us.  Guar, Kedra and I ventured out to see if there was anything there.  What we found was that the ground beneath the muck seemed to be made of glass, or something, and far beneath that there was water.  The garbage ended when the ground ended at an edge that went straight down.  We were going to go over the edge and see what was down there, but decided against it, when Guar, slipping and sliding in the muck almost went over the edge while holding the rope to lower me down.  

            Just as we were heading back to the portal room, we heard a shout from the others.  Running back, we saw that they had activated another portal.  This one opened out on to a forest of some kind, and the woods we could see within were filled with a small army of Orcs…some 200 and more.  A group of them had seen us through the portal, and were charging.  Thinking to have a bit of a challenge and some fun, we attacked.  After wiping out the small group, we decided that the army of Orcs could potentially constitute the kind of threat that Lord Hawklin had told us to "mop" up.  So we attacked the army.  Kedra happily cast fireball spells and pitched them into large groups of Orcs.  Sinyalla threw sleep spells at the waves that attacked us.  Guar waded in and began hacking, even as Durand summoned up spikes of stone to slow the charges.  I picked off Orcs one at a time with my arrows, until they got too close, climbing over the bodies of their fellows to get to us.  I only just managed to get out of the way as a fireball from the Orc side of the attack flew at us.  Apparently Kedra and Sinyalla weren't the only casters about.  I dove into melee as the next wave hit, screaming happily.  As opponents, most of the Orcs fell woefully short of a challenge, but sheer numbers alone made up for it.  As a whole, we took a bit of damage, but it was minimal compared to the drubbing we gave the orcs.  By the time we'd finished, some ten or twenty minutes after we'd started, there wasn't an Orc left standing.  A few cowards might've gotten away by running, but that was all.  Feeling quite good, after the literal blood bath…I know…I shouldn't like killing so much, but truth is, Orcs are evil and I can't feel remorse for killing them…we looted what we could from the Orcs.  Treasure-wise, there wasn't much, but still, I felt good for the victory, all the same.  When we'd finished, we headed back through the portal again, and back into the room, to explore another of the remaining 14 portals. 

            To make a long story short, I'll just give a quick run down of what we found in each of the portal.  In one, we found a desert….yes, a desert, just like the one the girl I met from Calimshite had spoken of.  It was a vast, barren area of sand and rocky ground…it was horrible, hardly a growing or a living thing to be seen.  I could not believe that such a place e3xsisted before, and even seeing it with my own eyes, I could scarcely comprehend it.  A place where the Earthmother's touch did not show…. I wonder how such a place could have come to pace, but then changed my mind.  Only something very powerful could possibly have sucked the life from the land so completely, and I would never want to face anything so powerful.  However, we did notice something odd.  There were the statues of orcs, scattered about, with looks of fear on all their faces.  Upon examining them a bit more closely, I realized that they were not carved statues, but actual, petrified orcs…and at that moment, realized that only a creature, like a cockatrice or something similar could have done such work.  It proved to be a basilisk…a great lizard whose gaze can turn a body to stone.  Fortunately, we prevailed…and its gaze attack was not very effective after I sank two daggers into its eyes.

            The next portal lead into a thick, green forest, a welcome relief after the horror of the desert.  At first, the scene looked peaceful and serene, but that observation quickly proved false, as we noticed droplets and splatters of dried blood all around the area, scattered on the stones of the ruined building the portal opened up into.  A little farther in, as we were investigated, we found a small trap door hidden in the ground near a huge green hillock.  Curiously, we went below, and found an ancient cellar, filled with the dust of centuries of being forgotten.  In one of the rooms, we found a small stack of metal ingots, of a metal that I'd never before seen.  Kedra named it Ice steel, and fever metal, and claimed it was very voluble…. naturally, we began to scoop it up.

            As we climbed up, Durand first, his Lordship suddenly vanished in front of me.  A moment later, something huge, and green wrapped around my waist and hauled me up and into the air.  We I looked down from my new perch, as they very air was being crushed from my breath by the tentacle, I could see that the "hill" was no hill at all, but some sort of mossy, tentacled monster, and it was doing it's level best to kill Durand and I.  Catching a breath, I screamed.  It had no effect on the creature, but it did bring the others running.  The attack began in earnest.  It took a short while before Durand and I both found ourselves swallowed alive by the creature.  I held my breath, as I felt the acid of its innards begin to eat away at my clothing.  I refused to die so poorly, and I managed to wrench my dagger free and began cutting.  I had to work fast, for the damage seemed to regenerate after a few moments.   Finally, as I was coming to the end of my air, I broke through the twiggy, mossy outer skin of the plant beast, and pulled myself free.  I looked over and saw that Durand had also gotten free, by way of a priestly spell.  The creature, angry, no doubt at loosing its food, continued to attack.  I went at it with a spear I'd found that could do fire damage, having heard from Jael that fire could hurt creatures who regenerated damage, like trolls.  After a few more moments, it had eaten Sinyalla, Guar, and Durand…again.  That left me, and Sal, and Kedra to deal with it.  Kedra pitched a few fireballs, while Saldenon whaled away at it with enviable speed.  My spear was doing damage enough, and I knew that Guar and Durand, at least, were struggling, and wounding it from within, for it would occasionally grimace in pain…if a huge pile of refuse could grimace, that is.  

            Finally, it fell…right on top of Kedra actually.  We worked quickly, and managed to cut everyone free from the pile before they suffocated.  We set the whole thing on fire, using lamp oil to keep the blaze going…just to be on the safe side.  After that, we returned to the portal room for a rest…. and I was complaining about the horrors of the desert?

            We were awoken before we could sleep a full eight hours.  Out of the sky, for the portal room had no ceiling, came screeching down what could only have been a griffon…. only this griffon was not quit as the one's Jael had spoken of.  This one had two heads, and looked mad as a nest of stirred up hornets.  We sprang to our feet, and attacked without hesitation.  I methodically slashed at it, determined to try and kill it.  It was, after all, obvious evil, and besides, I wanted to see if Griffons really did have a golden feather on their back.  Unfortunately, though, it had wings, and so, had the advantage.  When it began to receive more damage than it was dealing the griffon managed to fly away.  And, while it did leave some rather nice looking feathers behind, there was not a gold feather in the whole bunch.

            We rested on and continued our exploring the next day.  I put on a new set of clothing, which left me with only one spare set, thanks to the plant-creature's acid.  Yeah, I suppose I have enough money to get myself ten new sets of clothing, but I never remember to when I'm back in town.  I suppose I should be rather embarrassed, for even the best of my outfits was worn, and somewhat threadbare, but truth to be told, I never notice when I'm in town, as I'm either working too damned hard, or not wearing anything to speak of, anyhow.

Another portal led into the basement of a wine shop in a city that no one recognized.  While we were there, we found a hidden sheaf of papers that described how to open all of the portals, even ones that were currently deactivated.  We took the papers with us, to use in our report to Lord Hawklin, later.

We found one that lead to the ruins of an old god called Tyche, whom no longer existed.  It was near a road in Cormyr that Durand named the Manticore's Way.  After a few minutes of checking around, we found a line of murdered orc bodies.  They looked as though they been killed quickly, one right after the other.  Probably some kind of spell.  The ghost, whom I assume was responsible, showed up a few moments later.  Her form was smoky, and indistinct, and while there were eyes, there was no mouth.  It was obviously a woman, and she seemed distraught.  She kept pointing and gesturing at the portal.  We tried in several languages to see if she could understand, but it was only until I tried out some of my rudimentary ancient elven that she seemed to comprehend.  I asked her if she wanted us to open the portal, and she nodded vigorously.  So I did so, before I could stop and let myself wonder weather or not it was good idea.  Her face lit up with glee, and she dove into it and was gone.  No one said anything…not that I would've cared if they had.  I've found that ghosts are far easier to deal with if you give them what they want, so it didn't bother me in any case.

We found a portal that opened up onto a lead wall.  Determined to see what was behind it, we broke down the lead wall, and then the stone and mortar one behind that.  Once through, we discovered that we were halfway up an ancient monolith, with a laughing head and shoulders on top of it.  We found an old inscription on the monolith that made no sense, but we assumed that it had to do with activating the portal, as the command words for doing so were within the inscription.

Other portals we found lead into the underwater lair of a dragon turtle, a ruined hall with things in it so old that they turned to dust at the lightest touch, a group of dark elves in an underground chamber, who seemed confused to see us….we shut that one quickly, as the others feared attack by a larger force of drow…and just when I was beginning to converse with the drow, too!…a portal that exited out into air, hundreds of feet above twin mountains, an entrance to the Underdark, a foul swamp that had several multi-eyes ball shaped creatures hovering just a few feet away…again, we closed that one swiftly, a room that was completely dark, but once lit, proved to have a very large, ten-headed hydra in it, which turned to us and moved to attack…fortunately, being quick, we shut the portal before anyone could get hurt… and finally, another ruined room that opened up to a building with members of the Cult of the dragon in it.  With the last, we killed the one Cultists who came to check out the commotion we were making, but as I heard more approaching, I let out with my very best scream…a scream, that I've been told sounds very much like that of a true banshee.  My bluff worked and the other cultists ran off, shouting about ghosts.  Normally, we would've attacked the rest of them, but we had no way of knowing how many there were, or even where we were for that matter, so we retreated. 

We marked the contents of each portal beside it, in chalk, and decided that we'd done our jobs and would let the purple dragons have the "honor" of cleaning out the creatures behind each portal…if they were so inclined.

We started to head back outside, but slowed when we heard voices.  I scouted ahead, and concealed myself.  Just outside the portal, I came upon the sight of several people, and creatures, just outside the door.  Two ogres, two humans, and two…giants?…they were huge, but did not look like the firbolg I was used to…not with their gray skin, were poking around at the bodies of the orcs, and cultists outside.  I suppose they'd come to investigate.  It was, however, when I saw the symbols of the Zhentarim on the clothing of the two humans that I realized that theses were in no way goodly folk…therefore fair game.  I went back down and told the others.  Our plan was simple.  Kedra, Sinyalla, and myself would all go up, invisibly, and position ourselves around them.  Kedra would start the attack by pitching a few fireballs, and other painful spells at the giants.  Then Sinyalla and I would take out the magely looking one, leaving the two ogres, and the one fighter to the others.

The fireball exploded, quickly followed by a storm of ice, that left the giants reeling…but not downed.  Sinyalla…predictably, missed the mage, but I attacked the Zhent so fiercely, and so quickly that I believe he was dead before he even realized what had occurred.  The fight went well enough from there, with the only true challenge being the giants.  I thought we might've had a problem for a moment when Guar went down under the ground-shaking force of the giant's blows, but Saldenon and myself quickly stepped up to guard Guar.  We flanked the giant, and a few good strikes put him out, seeing as how it was already weakened from Kedra's magic.  The other went down a moment later under Durand's and Kedra's onslaught.  With all members of the Zhentish party dead, we quickly looted them, and head back to the black crater, looking only slightly worse for the wear.

The captain briskly, and mechanically took our report, seeming not surprised in the slightest at the descriptions of portals, and Zhents, Cultists, and hydras, and strange magic and orcish armies.  Without further fanfare, we were sent back through the Cormyrian portal to Ashabenford, where Lord Hawklin was waiting to take our report…so we spilled the same story a second time.  When he asked if we'd found anything of use to Cormyr, we gave him the papers, which detailed the use of the portals, but replied that nothing among the treasure had seemed very important.  It was only a bit untrue, but the things we'd found…on the orcs, the Zhents, and the Cultists, were nothing more than low –level magic and coins…good for us, but nothing that the kingdom of Cormyr would either want or need.  The whole adventure took only three days from start to finish…the only gripe I have, is that while we were given those neat writs, and all, we never even had the chance to use or abuse them!

Lord Hawklin graciously thanked us…his words, not mine…for our aid, and vowed that he would have our reward for us in five days, as it had yet to arrive from Cormyr.  I guess he didn't expect us to be so fast and efficient.  Hmph.  Nobles…always expecting slipshod work from us peasants.  Oh well, I can't really be mad…it is, after all, the way they're raised…and besides, like I said, Lord Hawklin is rather more fine to look out than to waste breath yelling at.                                                                          

So, we had another bit of time off.  All in all, I ended up getting a lot done, but actually, less than I'd hoped.  First, I headed back and had a chat with Dazelin.  He told me that me sword would be ready in about a week and a half, and that I had to be around, so that he could attune it to me.  Basically attuning means that anyone besides me who tries to pick up the sword against my will, while I'm still alive will feel rather uncomfortable using it.  I vowed I would be here. After that I headed up to the keep.  The dwarves work damned fast, I must give them that credit.  Only a few weeks, and they already had finished everything below ground…and believe me that was a lot, and were beginning on the walls for the above ground buildings.  Already, my tower was beginning to take shape, as well as several other buildings.  I had two interesting visitors the first two days I was up there.  The first day, I was approached by a dwarven man, only a little older than Kedra… or so I guessed.  He had straight black hair that melded with his short black beard.  Dark eyes were smart, and he had the look of a fighter.  His name was Takklinn Ironbender, and he informed me that I would need a captain for my keep, seeing as I meant to house soldiers there.  I'd never thought of the idea at that moment.  People working for me?  Too weird…and yet, I suppose that, in a way, I do have people working for me already.  Inialos, for one.  Besides…it wasn't as if I didn't have money to pay people…and, now that I think about it, this keep wasn't going to be able to run itself.  So I decided to give him a chance.

"And why should I give you the job?" I asked him, sounding as scathing as possible.  Oh, I was fairly certain he was skilled…I could see that in the way he moved, the nicks on his weapons…it was his temper…his ability to remain calm that interested me.  If I had to hire someone to be the captain of the keep, he or she would have to have a cool heal, have to be able to give orders and take advice, and criticism, all while be potentially under attack by an enemy.  

He listed off his qualifications.  Aside from being well trained, having some experience with the local troubles, he'd also fought drow before.  Incidentally, his grandfather was the blacksmith at Glen, who was in charge of the work going on at the keep.  So I drew my weapons.

"Fight me," I stated.  He seemed momentarily confused.

"Come, now, good dwarf.  Draw your weapon…I promise I shall go easy on you.  Look…I will only use one hand."  I drew the other behind my back.  I taunted him again, and he slowly drew his weapon.

"Why d'ye want ta do this?" he asked.

"You wish to be a captain…a captain must be skilled.  I'm skilled, prove to me that you are, as well."  I infused my voice with skepticism, but he did not fly into a rage.  Instead, he advanced methodically.  The battle was on.  He attacked, and I warned him not to hold back.  He caught me across the back, straight off, but I recovered fast, and rolled up again.  I did go easy on him at first, not attacking nearly as often as I could, but as our fight went on, I made it harder and harder for him to attack and defend.  Finally, a few minutes later, he stepped away, breathing heavily, and bruised from my attacks.

"Hold!  Ye've won.  Ye fight like the wind."  And with that, he turned to walk away.  It was my turn to halt him.

"Wait!  You've passed the test!"  And he had, for his temper had held…in the face of my taunts, and in his failure.  He'd not thrown a fit, but remained proud and calm.

"Welcome to my employ, Captain Takklinn," I held out my hand.  He stared at me, momentarily disbelieving.

"Why?  I lost."

"No…you may have lost the fight with me…but that is only because I've had more experience.  The test was against your temper.  I can't have a man who flies into a rage as a captain of others who'll depend on leadership.  You are skilled, and will only become more so in time. I need someone who'll be able to give orders…but also be willing to take them…from a woman.  I've heard, from friends, that dwarves are always honorable folk.  I need someone I can trust.  Can I trust you, Takklinn?"

"Aye," he nodded slowly. "Aye, ye can.  And ye'll not regret yer choice."  He clasped my hand…the handshake of a warrior.  Imagine that…me…being treated as a fellow warrior…some to be respected.  Odd, that…considering that I'm a thief and all.

So Takklinn became my first real employee.  I told him that in order to be a good captain, he'd have to a have a few soldiers.  To that end, I informed him of several of the young toughs I'd seen around Ashabenford, who'd had nothing better to do than posture.  No more than 5 or 6, I told him.  Hire them, and train them, I told him.  He assured me that it would be done.

My second visitor was not a potential employee, per se…seeing as I didn't hire him.  He hired himself.  I saw that the dwarves were diligently working on a forge, against the north wall.  Shouting orders at them was a short, bulbous-nosed gnome, standing next to a loaded cart.  It took me a moment to recognize Jeblek…the gnome who'd been working as a smith for the Zhents.  When he saw me, he looked up and informed me that he was going to be my smith…silently adding "whether you like or not."  I didn't get much of a choice.  I informed him that I wouldn't pay him, seeing if it would test his resolve.  It didn't.  He merely replied that he required no pay, and that so long as I supplied him with metal and food and stayed out of his way, that he would make useful things for the keep.  Then he proceeded to tell me that I was to busy myself elsewhere, that he had the forge construction well in hand.  He actually had the audacity to tell me to "shoo," caressing the iron maiden in his cart all the while.  What a weird little thing…strangely enough, I'm sure he'll fit in perfectly.

Then it happened, not two hours later.  I don't know what set it off…by the gods, I never do.  Why did it have to happen just then, though?

I turned to say something to one of the dwarves, when my head began to ache.  The pain grew in intensity as swiftly as a brush fire through dry grass.  I had enough time to stumble a few feet away…I don't know where the hells I meant to go.  My knees hit the dirt…my hands pressed against my head, as though the force of my will alone could stop the pain.  It was not enough.  My vision went red, then dark, and I began to scream…

When I awoke, it was morning…of what day, I did not know.  I was in a bare stone room, on a small cot.  I sat up slowly; making certain that the pain was gone.  It was a moment or two before Andar arrived.  His face mirrored concern as he sat beside me…several days of concern; I amended as I noted the dark circles beneath his eyes.  Damn it all.  He checked my forehead…feeling my temperature, I suppose…then stared into each of my eyes.  

"I really am fine, now."  I told him, after a moment…once I could work up the courage to speak.

"What happened?" he asked simply.  I shrugged.  I hated trying to explain things, blast it all.

"It's nothing that hasn't happened before," I told him.  "Remember I said that I was found near the ocean?"  He nodded.  I drew back my hair from my scar.  He looked momentarily surprised.  How could he have not seen it yet?  I may be a bit obsessive about people not touching my hair…even my lovers, but I figured he had to have seen the scar…it's so ugly.

"They found me with this…probably from a ship wreck.  Every once in a while, it flares up, and my head hurts so much that I can't think any more… then I scream…nothing more than that.  People used to think I was possessed, or something, but a dozen priests have said I'm not.  It's nothing that I worry about, beyond the obvious, of course."  He was still staring at me.  Damn it… why couldn't people just accept that I was fucked up and get on with their lives?

"Raine…" he began. "Whatever this is, it's not…normal.  I've seen people with head wounds before…and none of them ever had a …problem like this.  Maybe you should…" I jerked away from him and stood up suddenly.

"There's nothing I can, should, or will do about it!  It's as healed as it ever will be…you're not a better healer than Jael was and there was nothing he could do!"  I knew my voice was rising, that it got to a high pitch that was almost the verge of a scream at the end.  It worked…he backed off.

"Shh…I'm not trying to upset you…I just thought…"

"Well don't think," I snapped.  "I don't like to think about it, and no one else should, either.  Just drop it, ok?"  I softened my voice a little.  He had tried to help, after all.  It wasn't his fault I was so messed up. Still, he didn't bother me any more that day, and I felt kind of bad for yelling at him.

I gather that the workers were rather startled at first, but recovered quickly, and ended up continuing their jobs, after sticking bits of wax or cotton in their ears.  No harm, no foul…until of course, Andar mentioned that my "glowing friend" had been by to see me.  I cursed loudly at that.  Damn Sinyalla.  I hadn't wanted anyone in the party to know about the keep until I was done with it!  Now she knew about the keep…and knew that my little episodes were not just an isolated thing.  It would be all over the party, by now, seeing as two days had passed since then.  

All in all, though things weren't too bad, though.  If the other members of the party knew anything, they kept it to themselves and didn't bother to ask me anything.  

After Takklinn and Jeblek, I began to acquire more "servants."  A woman from one of the nearby farming communities showed up, claiming that she was a good cook, and if I was building a keep someone would have to feed all those soldiers.  So I hired Miri.  As people go, she was a huge mound of a woman …6 foot tall at least, packed tighter than a dwarf…she must've weighed three hundred pounds…a great deal of which I suspect is muscle.  She has one of those "semi-motherly, not to be trifled with" demeanors.  I'll just bet with her as a cook, the soldiers who work at the keep will have some of the cleanest hands in the Dalelands.

A few days after that, two farmer girls applied for positions as maids… What can I say?  I gave them jobs.  I don't even know if I'll need maids or not, but I couldn't very well turn them away…not when I'd been turned away so often, so long ago.

I actually met the stable "master." Nym Thistledown away from the keep.  I was headed back into town when that damned Apple began acting up, prancing around and rearing…and acting crazy.  I managed to get off before he threw me, fortunately.  I wasn't having much luck in coaxing him towards town… not even with food, when Nym showed up. 

Nym is half-elven, and I noticed it straight off.  With his dark hair, and blue eyes, he reminded me somewhat of Inialos.  His clothing was ragged and threadbare, and I doubted that he was older than 15.  He saw that I was having trouble with that damnable, hells-spawned beast, and came to my rescue, so to speak.  Apparently, Apple had gotten some burrs under his saddle, and that's why he was acting so brainless.  Nym found the trouble and got rid of it.  I was so grateful, I offered him a position as my stable master right off.  I was rather surprised when the boy burst into tears.  I managed to calm him down and get the whole story.  Nym was an orphan…his last relative, an uncle, had been killed in one of the more recent drow attacks.  He had no money…had not had any for a while.  He was tired and hungry, and had actually been on his way to my keep to try to find work, as he hadn't been able to find any in town.  That settled it…I probably would've hired him, even if he'd been as at odds with animals as I was.  I told him that, as his first duty, he was to take Apple back to keep, as he was being an ornery beast, and I didn't really wanted to ride him now.  Apple merely snorted and tossed his mane about, snobbishly.  Nym stared at me with disbelieving eyes.

"You'd trust me with your horse?"

"Sure…why not?  If you want to steal him, that's your choice.  Truth to be told, I should probably get rid of the flighty, pig anyhow," I glared at Apple, who glared right back, then stomped a hoof.  

"Still…I've learned that steady pay is certainly a far better thing…"

"I wouldn't steal him!" Nym protested, aghast.  I laughed.  

"I know that.  Now, then, you take Apple here back to the keep.  Take yourself and find my Captain, Takklinn, or a human priest, called Andar… and don't mind the dwarves.  You can help get the stable set up, and watch after this great pain…you can get food and a bedroll from the supplies up there, too.  Don't let anyone sass you around…after all you are the stable master.  And when you've got spare time, go down and have Takklinn give you some fighting lessons.  Everyone at the keep's gotta learn some fighting skills in case the drow attack." 

Nym nodded vigorously, and "yes ma'am-ed" me.  I told him to call me Raine, and sent him on his way, light shining in his eyes.  

Good deeds will be the end of me, I thought, as I trudged into town on foot.

I met up with the party members before I could go see Dazelin, and find out how long until my sword was ready.  They were complaining that some weird, tall guy had bought out most of the magic items in town.  As luck would have it, Dazelin showed up, unexpectedly, at the inn, where we were having lunch.  That was unusual in itself, for he rarely left his house.  He seemed very tired, and rather bewildered, as he sat down.  Then he explained what was wrong.

"I've been robbed," he told me, simply.  That was a mild shock.  Trying to light the suddenly silence, I quipped,

"Aw, damn…someone beat me to it."  Dazelin shook his head.  Then he told us why the robbery was so odd.  The thief or thieves had cleared out the entire back room of his shop…which believe me, would been no easy task…that room was just piles and piles of junk stacked as high as the ceiling…and it was no small back room either.  He told us that he'd been in the back room working on my sword, and hadn't heard anything.

Being Dazelin's friend, I quickly agreed to look into the robbery.

Being bored, the others quickly volunteered to help.

We decided that the person who been buying up all the magic items in the area would be a good start for our investigation.  Daz gave us a list as to what was taken.  It only took a little while to find out that the person we were looking for could be found out near the standing stone, which was just a few miles into the woods.

So we headed out there, when we got sidetracked or rather, something weird attacked us.

By weird, I mean, it was a huge, metallic centaur, thing that wielded a whip of chains.  It seemed to be after Sal.  The fight that ensued was rather awful, in that the damned thing practically handed us our butts on a platter.  It seemed immune to almost all of our weapons.  Finally, we noticed that it seemed to not like elemental style damage.  We managed to finish it off by trapping its feet in a tanglefoot bag, opening up my decanter of endless water at it, and having Kedra cast an ice storm.  By the time the spell stopped, there was a big block of ice in front of us…but the creature was not in it.  It disappeared.  It was rather odd, but we didn't get attacked further, so we didn't dwell on it.

Near the standing stone, we came upon 4 brightly colored tents, set up in a clearing.  After calling out a few times, with no answer, we went in to one of them.  Their proved to be not one, but 4 of the tall people, would been buying up magic…each of them buying a different type.  They were really unusual looking, with bluish skin, and an otherworldly nature that reminded me of Sal, just a little.  They didn't seem to be of the thieving bent, so I asked them straight out, if they knew about the missing items.  They had indeed seen the items, and in fact bought them, from a strange fellow with fiery hair and dusky skin the day before.  When I explained to them that the items in question had been stolen from Dazelin, they got upset, saying that bad publicity would be bad for business.  They proved to be entirely reasonable, and stated that they would return the items, but, however, they'd paid the thief quite a bit of money, and would like it to be returned.  So, in order to help Dazelin, we headed off after the thief.  

It's a good thing that Guar has such a great nose, and I'd learned the rudiments of tracking from Inialos, or else we might never have found the thief. 

We tracked him two days to the south and east of Ashabenford.  We caught up at a tavern in a small farming town.  No one seemed much to notice when we entered, although the party was not exactly inconspicuous.  The people in there, though, seemed far too immersed in their drinks.  We saw the thief easily enough; in the corner…his hair actually was fire!   Durand and Sal moved to distract him…although, I think Durand was trying to confront the thief head on, and most likely didn't realize he was just distracting the other for me.  Naturally, the thief, when faced with Durand's ranting got up quickly, and moved to leave, fearful of the obviously, coming attack.  He almost ran right into me, and in that moment, I neatly relieved him of his belt pouch, which was the only thing he had on him besides a sword…proving that my skills weren't nearly as rusty as I feared they might be getting, considering all the do-gooding I'd been up to lately.  When I turned and sat down at the bar, letting the thief escape, the others gave me odd looks.  I quickly explained that I'd gotten what I wanted from the thief, and that their was no sense killing a fellow clever enough to steal Dazelin's back room from under his nose.  The belt pouch, you see, had a holding enchantment on it, and held much more that it appeared.  The entire payment from the tent men was in their…many large bars of electrum.  

We did not see the thief again as we headed back to Ashabenford, picked up Dazelin, who told me my sword would be done in only two days, and up to the Standing stone again.

The tent men were very glad to see us, and gladly returned all of Dazelin's goods…magically transporting everything to the drow's house.  They were also very glad when the party spent a nice chunk of money buying things from them.  I, too, made a purchase, that may seem kind of strange.  I bought some poison…very potent poison, I might add.  I'm not really sure why, but I thought I might need it.

As it turned out, I needed it sooner than I'd thought. 

A week after that, we got hit up for help again.  I finally had my sword, and was rather pleased with Dazelin's workmanship.  It fit to my hand perfectly, and I liked the dark gleam of the metal, the near-glow of the sapphires.  I called the sword "Banshee's Wail," for it could scream…my scream.  Dazelin called it a sonic attack, and said that he'd used my own voice to create the spell.  Whenever I swung the cutlass, it would wail, but instead of just stunning people, as my own scream tending to do, it would actually cause damage.  I was impressed.

So when I ran into Saldenon, in town, who was being led around by a tiny dragon with butterfly wings…and when Saldenon told me that we had a request for help, I was ready to go and try out my sword.

I never expected it to be a real dragon.

I knew about the little dragons like Rossal, surely enough, but the big ones were just a story to me…something that Jael told us to scare us.  I suppose I never really doubted their existence…I'd ever heard tales from outlanders about dragon attacks, but none of it was really real until we entered that cave and I saw it for myself.

The little dragon with Saldenon proved to be a fairy dragon…one of the creatures I used to try to catch as a child, but they were always far smarter than any of my silly traps.  Apparently the little dragon was worried about his friend, a pixie, who was the captive of a dragon.  The fairy dragon had heard of us, and came seeking our help…but then he dropped the clincher…the one piece of information that assured us that we would go help…dragon or no.  His "friend," the pixie had a tattoo…one just like the last of two…the same as the only tattoo that we had no information on.  So we trudged north, into the hills beyond the forest.  It took about two days, and I wondered how anyone could be alive after that much time in the company of a dragon…especially if it was truly a great dragon.

We entered the cave it was in cautiously, spells of invisibility up on all of us.  I'd coated my blade with the poison just before entering.  We heard them before we saw them.  A loud, grumble of a voice, and a tiny squeaking one.  The dragon was speaking in draconic, I think…and I could not understand him.  The pixie, however spoke Sylvan, and I knew that language.  He kept replying to the dragon that he "didn't know."  They both turned when we entered, foolishly believing that we were actually invisible to a creature of such might.  The dragon was of no type I knew of.  Jael had spoken of colored dragons being evil, and of metallic dragons being good…but this was neither.  

It was brownish in color…the hue like the little lizards that come out to bask in the sun…but so very different.  Spikes and scales covered the creature's entire body…it made a porcupine, all bristled up look cuddly.  Its mouth was row after row of jagged teeth ranging in size from short sword to great sword.  It reminded me of shark…with wings…and claws the size of Kedra…and a tail that could wrap around a building and crunch it…and glowing yellow, cat-like eyes that catch sight of us straight away…and glared.  I froze momentarily, against the wall.  The others, too, were all staring up in mute horror.  This was beyond the scope of even Jael's vivid imagination and tales…this was real, and we'd committed ourselves to do battle with a thing that could, in legend, ravage entire cities.  Luckily, I have good fortitude, or I would've happily fainted dead away.  

The pixie leapt into the air at our approach, crowing triumphantly, his little wings a blur of motion.

"Ha!  It worked!  You've arrived, just as I planned."  He shouted in a voice that sounded, suddenly sinister.  Then a strange mist seemed to uncoiled from around, from within the little one's body, and it swirled to surround the dragon.  Tendrils of the strange fog pierced into the dragon, until the air was clear again.  The pixie fell from the air, and hit the ground hard, looking dazed, his eyes clearing…possessed…he'd been possessed…but by what?  I looked up at the dragon, who shook its head, then redoubled its glare at us.  By what?…what could possess a great dragon?  Then we ran out of time…it attacked.

Neck lunging, its mouth opened wide, I hardly had time to bring my weapons to bear…hardly had time to realize…it was attacking me.  I praise Chauntea, and Lady Tymora for the strength of my armor, else I would've been instantly cut in two when it bit into me.  But the mithral and enchantments held true…the pain was bad…crushing…the razor edges of his teeth cut unprotected flesh…and yet somehow, I drew upon the presence of mind to attack…to drive my cutlass into it's scales.  Dazelin's enchantment worked…sure–striking…the blade cut through the scales as easy as flesh.  It drove the dragon back…it let me go.  The others scrambled to attack…all but Kedra, who was still frozen in her fear.  Despite my own terror…and believe me, if I hadn't already gone early, I would've probably let loose in my pants…I rushed forward, and around to the side of the dragon, even as Saldenon and Durand hit the dragonhead on.  My first attack had cut the dragon, but when I attacked the second, time, I sank both cutlass and longsword into the dragon, nearly to the hilts, before roughly yanking them out again.  The dragon screamed, and a heartbeat later, seemed to slow.  My poison!  I spared a second to think…it was working…but on a creature so huge…it would not kill him, but maybe it would slow the creature enough to give us an edge.  Sinyalla darted across the cavern, snatched up the pixie, then disappeared behind the dragon's treasure heap…shit!…treasure pile?

The dragon's tail suddenly snapped around and knocked me flat; the air sneezed from my lungs.  Pain!!!  Guar's voice was a murmur of chants to Tempus, then Kedra's eyes cleared and her fingers moved to cast.  There was the twang of a crossbow, as Sinyalla popped again, firing.  I gained my feet, and drank down a healing drink from the dragon chalice.  The light-headedness I was beginning to feel vanished, and I ran in to attack again.  Seconds seemed minutes, and minutes were longer.  We were hurting it; blood trickled, but not enough.  Then there was a scream…which wasn't me.  We looked up, and saw Sinyalla…or rather what was left of her.  The dragon was…chewing her…body parts fell away…an arm hit the floor…her head flopped back unhealthily…I knew she was dead, even before the dragon released the ruined pulp that was once a body.  It landed on the floor with a noise like a rotten tomato hitting a rock.

Saldenon fell next…he moved to attack, but made a fatal mistake…he slipped…then he joined Sinyalla on the floor…eviscerated…his tall lanky form now in two distinct pieces.

We redoubled our efforts, even as the dragon did the same.  Claws, tail, teeth…the dragon hit at us everywhere, jaws snapped, attacks clanging off armor, crushing noises…bones snapping as Saldenon's corpse was ground down under the creature's claws.  Then, with a shout of final rage, Kedra drove her axe in, even as I yanked my swords out, even as Durand and Guar drew back for another swing.  The dragon wobbled for a moment…I could see it through my bangs, my sweat, and my own blood that trickled into my face…it fell. We scrambled out of the way just in time.  There was a resounding thud…a few residual thrashing as the body died…then silence…strange quietness, but for the sounds of heavy breathing…surviving warriors catching their breath.

We hardly had time to catch our breath when it appeared.  It literally just appeared, clapping its hands.  It was the lich of Bane that we'd first met back at the Zhentish encampment.

"Well done!  He's been annoying me for quite some time…it is good to see that you've finally got rid of him for me."   I was…miffed.  Here we'd just fought something so evil, on a massive, and fatal scale…I glanced down at my arm, to see that only one tattoo remained…. and the damned, undead, son of a bitch was clapping, as though he'd planned the entire underhanded deed.  Of, course, he probably had.  

"All right, you horse's ass!  We've played your stupid little game.  Keep your part of the bargain, and get this off!"  I shouted at him, gesturing at the last tattoo.  I know, I know…why do I even bother to expect that evil, in its most potent form, would ever keep a promise.  I must be smoking some fine pipe weed, right?  But he did.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather keep them?"  The lich asked…I think maybe it was serious.  "They're rather well done, I thought."

"Get them off, now!!" I screamed, the tips of my swords coming up from the floor a fraction of an inch.

"Oh very well.  You three," he gestured at Kedra, Guar, and myself, "have done well."  And he waved his hand, and the last of the blood red tattoos evaporated from our arms, like a fine layer of water.  All that was left was the faint flame design, which had surrounded the evil symbols…I would have to do something with that later…  Then he turned to Durand.

"And you…breaker of vows, and traitor to your own country…Bane wants you."  And before we could raise our weapons in protest, the lich grabbed Durand by the throat.  Durand turned to look at us.  I expected to see fear in his eyes…but there was none…a challenging glare…an acceptance…and maybe…a hint of welcome.  Then he was gone, and the lich too.

We were silent as we worked.  The pixie and the fairy dragon had both flittered off, to parts unknown, much earlier in the battle.

We gathered up Saldenon, and as much as we could find of Sinyalla, and buried them in the forest nearby.  Guar said prayers over their graves, short, but holy, to let their spirits rest in peace this time.  They had not really been friends, but I had at least, grown to respect them for their skills, and work alongside them as comrades.  Their losses were saddening, but I did not attribute such to my curse.  They'd fallen prey to a fate that Jael spoke of often…the ultimate fate of those who seek a life of adventure…death by the blade…or teeth the size of blades in this case.  I had never thought to adventure as a child, for such a death frightened me…but when peaceful priests die by the sword just as easily as an adventurer…when the skilled can fall as easily as the unskilled…adventuring doesn't seem so bad.  At least when I die…again…I will know that I died to perhaps save others, like poor Jael, from a similar fate.  Saldenon and Sinyalla died to protect…to do good…they made their choice to fight, as did I.  They fought well, and they died well, for all of the horror inherent in their deaths. I prayed for them to reach their final destinations swiftly, for they did not deserve to wait long.  

As for Durand, there was, put bluntly, nothing to be done for him.  He'd not pleaded with us to save him…but rather warned us, with his eyes, to stay back.  I don't know if he accepted his fate as punishment, or looked forward to it.  It seemed to me that Durand was always grasping for power in all the wrong ways…I don't know if he is dead now, or alive.  I don't know if I can bring myself to care.  Durand was a good fighter…and in combat, we worked together well.  We were not friends…and never would've been, I think.  He broke his vows, but so, too, have I.  In my own way, I suppose I am guiltier than Durand, for people have died because of me…  I think that the difference is simple though…I strive to better myself…to repair the damage I have wrought…to redeem myself in the eyes of the goddesses and gods I follow…to undo my curse.  Durand never tried, and I think, in the end, that was why it was he and not I who was taken.  I feel sorry for his fate, but…yet…I cannot say that it was undeserved.

We gathered up the treasure, and all their things.  And then, I realized something, as yet another one of Jael's tales came back to me.  So, using the message spell that Lord Wolcott had taught me, I sent a magical call to Dazelin, and told him of the dragon…told him of the carcass…and told him what I wished to do.  He arrived at the cave an hour later.  He said that he'd had to teleport outside, just in case.  I don't know how he managed it, but magically, he managed to transport the dragon's entire body back to a small clearing near his house.  I had plans for the dragon.  Plans which went into effect the next afternoon.

I remember how Jael had once said that every part of a great dragon could be valuable to someone.  Wizards liked the blood, the organs…fighters would want the hide and the teeth and the claws for weapons and armor.  And as for the rest…well…I always wondered what roast dragon might taste like.  

I made a deal with the inns in Ashabenford.  We got butchers to come our, and carve up the dragon into steaks…the dragon was not small…there was a lot of meat.  They made dragon recipes…stews, and steaks, and sandwiches, and casseroles…some of the meat we smoked, some we salted, and some we magically froze, so that it would keep through the coming winter.  The inns had dragon specials everyday, and as we'd provided the meat, Kedra, Guar, and myself got a cut of the profits.  

Dragon proved to be rather tasty…something like a cross between deer and chicken…yes, indeed, quite tasty.  I especially liked the recipe that one of the cooks used…dragon steaks, marinated with dragon's breath liquor, red pepper and garlic.  It was hot enough to melt your insides, and required a good three tankards of ale to cool off from one bite.  Mmmm-mmm.

The skin we took to an armorer who made it into armor for us.  The teeth and claws, Kedra kept, saying that she would make them into weapons, for she had the skill.  I did not doubt her.

I showed Guar and Kedra my keep.  I don't know if they were impressed, but they both agreed to stay there, at my invitation.  I ended up having to have two forges built…one for Jeblek, and one for Kedra, for they refused to work with each other.  Kedra's new familiar...when she acquired such, I don't know… got off smashingly with Rossal…being that Isis was a lady pseudo-dragon.  They are often to be found in each other's company, in the little tree house I had built for Rossal.  Maybe some spring, we'll have a whole hoard of pseudodragons to guard the keep…oh the horror.

Inialos eventually brought my dire weasel back, about a week after the dragon thing.  I called him Mr. Chitters.  Yeah, I know, it's a stupid name, but what can I say…if you could hear what that weasel sounds like, you'd agree with me.  Mr. Chitters had been well trained, I must admit.  Inialos had taught him to attack, defend, sniff things out, and most importantly, detect drow and warn others of that detection.  The latter was accomplished by a bell I bought and hung over Mr. Chitter's house…a small stone dwelling next to the kitchen…it made sense, since he liked to eat kitchen scraps.  Mr. Chitters, Isis, and Rossal would have all liked to have gotten at the chickens I bought for the keep; however, I outsmarted them by having the chicken wire for their coop made out of mithral.  I know…mithral chicken wire…it seems very silly, but trust me, it was necessary, if we wanted to have eggs…and Miri insisted that we would need eggs.  As a reward for helping with the weasel, and for seeking out the ruined towers, and the Kelerandri family, both tasks which he was still working on, I rewarded Inialos gratefully.  With some magical armor…you dirty minded…okay, so maybe I slept with him too, but that wasn't part of the payment!

Then, we sold the dragon skeleton, after it had been stripped of everything else usuable...teeth and claws and meat.  We started getting bids, and so we just turned it into an auction.  Some rich noble from Sembia finally offered…wait for it…2 million for the skeleton.  Needless to say he won the auction.  We made certain that he had no tattoo of the Cult of the Dragon before we turned it over to him.  As he was paying out our money…in stacks of platinum bars, no less…he laughed and mentioned that 2 million was the least he expected to pay for it.  I almost choked.  Maybe I shall have to visit this Sembia place sometime, and lighten the purses of a few overly rich nobles… especially if they have 2 million to spend on a dragon skeleton that was meant to be used as "the grandest, most unique, lawn ornament in Sembia," as he put it.  Some people have nothing better to do with money that could actually go where it was needed.  

Now, I felt a bit guilty about accepting so much money, even if I only got a third…since people had died for it.  So, I started making donations.  I hit the temples of Chauntea, Tyr, Tempus, Oghma, and a few of the smaller shrines.  To the temple of Oghma, I made the donation in Saldenon's name, for I knew that that had been the god he'd followed.  I made one to the church of Chauntea for Sinyalla, seeing as she had never mentioned her deity.  Over all, I think I donated about 250,000 of the gold.  I would've given more, but I decided to save some for a later time, if it was needed.  With all of the donations, though, I suggested that they start orphanages, or some places for people to go if they need help.  They were only suggestions, but I felt much better after getting rid of some of that money.  Funny. I worked all my life to get a little coin, lived day to day…took me two years to save up the 200 gold to get from the Moonshaes to Baldur's gate…now, here I have a fortune, and I don't really want it.  I've got people working for me…but I couldn't turn them away.  I'm drawing the line at the "ma'am," and "Lady" comments I'm starting to get.  It's Raine the Banshee or nothing at all.  There's no way I want anyone mistaking me for a…noble…shudder.

So the dwarves finished the keep…and a damned fine job they did too.  My tower is great.  Three stories, with lots of secret hiding places and such.  The dwarves thought I was silly for adding so many hidden walls, and doors, and such all over my keep…especially down by Lyklor's crypt.  I don't know…I just wanted to.  Maybe it's Jael's tales of haunted castles, and such…or from actually being in places with hidden rooms…I just wanted to have secret places to keep my secrets.  And besides, with Lyklor, I don't want anyone finding his crypt…I'd promised to keep it safe.  I swore the dwarves to secrecy, and Sinyalla was the only other person who knew of the crypt…not that that matters now.

One special thing I had done, was that I had a window made…a window like the ones back at the church.  It was round, the symbol of a red rose, over a golden circle, with beams of blue and yellow radiating out.  One of the petals was the piece of glass I'd taken from the church so long ago.  In my mind, it was a tribute…to those I'd lost, and to the gods I followed now.  The red rose for Chauntea…for Lady Emilia, and Jael…the Golden circle to represent the coin of Tymora…and Gull, who never told me his god, but I think he would have approved of Tymora, and my growing interest in her…and the blue and gold lines to represent the sun…the symbol on my necklace from before my birth… one of the only symbols I had to my farthest past…to my parents, whoever they were.  I may not be able to remember them, but they created me, and for that, I feel they should be remembered as best I can.  

The people are already calling it the Banshee Keep…calling it Raine's Tower.

It was a week before winter hit, when the "new people" showed up.  They all arrived on the same day.

First was Ranearal Kalise.  Ranearal was tall and frail looking, as if a good wind might tip him over.  He had a pair of spectacles perched on his long nose.  His skin was a warm golden hue, and his hair the color of wheat, but he was rather plain looking, for all that he was elven. Ranearal made his way into the keep, as we kept the gate's open, and the bridge down during the day.  He daintily picked his way across the courtyard, where I was sting, watching Takklinn drill Nym, and the four youngsters he'd hire…and the two maids, both of whom expressed interest in learning how to fend off any overly grabby suitors, if nothing else.  They were shaping up well, I thought, even though it had only been a few weeks.  Takklinn was every bit as efficient as I suspected he would be…and while he was firm, he was not harsh as he taught the others.  Someday, I suspected, there might be a fine set of soldiers living at the keep…defending the people…but for now, there was a fine beginning.

I looked up, when he approached, bag slung over one shoulder, and a large book tucked under one arm.  I recognized a wizard when I saw one, although I'd never seen one like Ranearal.  He was a sun elf, which explained his appearance, which was very different from the few elves I'd met, which were all moon or dark.  He told me that he'd come from Evermeet, returning to the forest, and had heard of me.  He said he'd heard of my skills as an adventurer, of the recent losses in the party, and that I was rebuilding an elven tower, for the elves to use.  I wondered, for a moment, how that had gotten out so quickly, but quickly remembered that Inialos was highly fond of talking.

Ranearal basically wanted to know if he could join us…Guar, Kedra, and myself, as an adventurer.  

Let it not be said that I don't give everyone a chance.  I told him that he could, but as a trial, since it would be the others' decision too. I told him where he could sleep, that he could take stuff from the armory if he needed to, and that the rent for the room was only half of what they charged at the inn…I wasn't trying to make money, but hey, everyone has to pay for their upkeep.

Even as he was heading off, another one arrived…a girl this time.   Her hair was flame red…brighter than my own auburn, and her eyes were a pale shade of blue.  She was a human druid, and at 5'6, rather short.  Apparently she was a friend of Inialos'…although, apparently, not so much a friend, but someone he'd talked at once or twice.  She wanted to adventure, or at least help out against the drow…and Inialos had given her the "good" advice to head here.  I shall have to remember to "thank" him.  I gave Aiyana the same deal as Ranearal...trial basis, there's the armory, pay rent if you want to stay.  She muttered something about how she'd rather sleep in the woods, as she walked off.  I think she'd bloody cracked…who would want to sleep on the ground in the woods when there are lot's of nice, warm beds within the walls.  Hmm…some people are just odd.

Finally, there was Dayton.  Although we didn't know it at the time, he was apparently a friend, or at least an acquaintance of Ranearal.  He isn't very much on the bright side, so there was a bit of a mix up at first.  I assumed that he was there because he wanted to join the soldiers, and sent him over to speak with Takklinn…Takklinn sent him back, saying that the boy was of an adventuring bent, and adventuring was my province. So, for the fun of it, and because he stated that his best skill was fighting, I told him that we'd give him a chance, if he was willing to have a sparring match with Guar.  He agreed, and to my surprise, didn't even flinch when Guar came out to the tilting yard.   After all, Guar is not exactly the most un-intimidating looking person in the world.   

They had a go at it for a while…Dayton even had the courage to knee Guar in a rather sensitive area…and didn't running screaming the other way when Guar didn't seem to flinch.  So we ended up stopping the fight before it could get out of hand, and giving Dayton the same deal as Ranearal and Aiyana.  Fortunately, no one else showed up looking for an adventuring job, for we would have had to turn them down for the simple reason that are party was once again as full as it had been.

We found out later, that Ranearal and Dayton already knew each other, and that Ranearal had not said anything because he thought that Dayton should be allowed to make his own impressions on us.  

A few weeks later, the keep was completely finished, and just in time, too…for it began to snow.

Now, I believe I mentioned once that I have never seen snow, though I do know what it is.  It did get cold in the Moonshaes, but living near the coast, and the ocean, as I did for my whole life, it never got cold enough to snow.  Still, and all, when I saw the first of the fat, white ice flakes drifting down from the sky, I got an odd feeling.  My body began to tense for a moment, and there was a faint throb of pain in my temple.  For a minute, I feared another "fit" was coming on me, but then it subsided just as quickly.  It was strange to see the snow, and to know that somewhere I had seen it fall thusly before…though I could not remember where.  In a way, that small knowledge was comforting, as was my knowledge of the elven language.  It meant that somewhere within my head, my memories from before my "birth" where still there…but hidden and locked away.  On one level, I wished I could have access to those memories…but on another, I was glad I didn't.  I slept with enough bad memories and sorrows.  I didn't need anymore…and actually, I'm not certain I really want to know my past.  I fear it might be painful, and I've never been fond of that particular sensation.

The snow was pretty at first...something to watch and to be enchanted by.  When it began to pile up, it was fun to play in.  Andar and the others showed me how to make buildings of snow…snowmen…and snowballs.  I particularly enjoyed the look on Andar's face when I smacked him in the back of the head with a rather melty ball of snow…and it began to drip down the back of his neck.  Quite amusing.  Men should never, ever shriek like that…

About two months into winter, however, I was tired of the snow…of having to clear it away so that the soldiers could drill…so that we could exercise the horses, and get from our rooms to the great hall for food.  It quickly lost much of its allure after shoveling away snow for hours at a time.

We were getting to know the new people better.  They were not bad folks, and certainly none of them rubbed me so raw as Durand had.  Ranearal was fairly quiet.  I suspected he was hiding something form us…it proved to be his "familiar"…a disturbing looking thing that he called a construct.  It reminded me of Saldenon's demonic uncle, although small enough to fit in a pocket, and incapable of speech.  Odd…  Other than that Ranearal pretty much kept to himself, often found seated by the fire in the great hall, poring over books.  I asked him once what he was about, and he stated that he was learning new spells from a book that Kedra had given him, and that he was thinking of making a certain magical item.  What item that was, I didn't ask, and he didn't offer.

Dayton was a fairly predictable fellow.  As humans go, rather plain, and every morning he could be seen out drilling and practicing in the tilting yard with the others.  Keeping to his room by night.  He seemed likable, but a bit on the dull side.  Not his fault, I suppose…  Perhaps when he gets out, and adventuring, he'll get better.  

Aiyana didn't seem too bad, either, although she was rather on the prickly side, and often muttered snide comments under her breath.  She still came and went from the keep…although why she would want to sleep outside, out in the cold was unfathomable to me.  Even her pet…a cat of great size, and black color, stayed in the keep…his favorite spot was a carpet next to the fire place in the great hall.  He didn't seem particularly dangerous, even when Aiyana wasn't around… and he didn't bother Mr. Chitters, so I didn't complain.

Kedra was spending a great deal of her time forging weapons out of the teeth and claws of the dragon, and doing fine work, I might add.  

As for Guar…well…he seemed to be acting a bit odd.  For one thing, he'd picked up the odd habit of getting up early and sitting up on the battlements so that he could watch the sunrise.  He'd grown inordinately fond of the color green, and his tastes in things had changed in other ways as well.  His once plain room was now filled with more finery than my tower…or at least richer finery.  He was far cleaner than he used to be, and Kedra hardly had to convince him to take a bath…he seemed to go about it on a daily basis.  I don't know what was causing the odd changes in Guar, but did not worry much about it either.  Perhaps Guar was finally realizing that there were many things besides battle that could be enjoyed in life.  I think that he's lonely for his own kind though, for I've heard him asking several people whether or not they knew if there were any half-orcs about anywhere.

As for myself, I kept busy doing a myriad of things.  Nym, whom I recognized as having a mild case of adoration for me, I was teaching how to see and listen for certain things that would indicate an intruder, or something not quite right about someone.  I sometimes go out and work with the soldiers and Captain Takklinn.  The good captain is teaching me a game of strategy, but he always beats me, and I fear I have no skill for it.  I just can't understand the relationship of moving bits of carved wood about on a board of multi-colored boxes.  Andar, of course, keeps me quite occupied…and quite warm at night.  He seems rather happy with the whole situation…and strangely enough, I haven't found myself bored by his presence yet.  

Still, though, I'm used to moving about freely, between town and keep, and wherever I wish to roam.  It is hard to be so curtailed as I am by the snow.  I've only been into Ashabenford twice since the snows are so deep…and they say we've got at least two or three more months of this.  I fear I'll go mad.

Then, one night, about three months into the winter, we got a pair of visitors.  There had been a lull in the snows for a few days, but we hadn't gone into town yet.  The bulk of the people at the keep…all of the adventurers, and the soldiers who were not on duty, were in the great hall, having dinner.  I must admit that Miri is a very fine cook…especially seeing as the number of people she had to cook for was so great.  Someone had taken a deer two days before, and we were enjoying some tasty venison stew, when two people entered the great hall, admitting a draft of cold air, led by Sergeant Daelric, of Mistledale.

One was a halfling, wearing heavy plate armor, with the design or some god I didn't know upon the breastplate.  He had curly brown hair, a heavy cloak, and actually wore boots on his feet…I suppose because of all the snow.  His companion was an elf…the strangest elf I'd seen to date.  He was no taller than Inialos, his hair a shade of deep brown…but his skin had a faint greenish cast to it.  He was dressed in the same kind of leathers and clothing that Inialos wore, which made me think that he was a ranger of sorts.  My first thought was that he was sick. or poisoned perhaps, what with that green skin, so I called to Andar and Guar.  They quickly went over and checked the elf, but pronounced that there was nothing wrong with him.  The elf quickly stated that he was a green elf…a woods elf, and that was his natural skin tone.  Odd…very odd, indeed.

The halfling was Roderic Lightblade, a paladin in the service of halfling goddess Avoreen.  The elf was Elvain, a ranger as I'd first suspected.  They'd come from a city north of the forest called, Elvain.  Adventurers, both, they told us a tale of how they'd run into a "fair-sized" group of undead up near the city, which was unnaturally organized.  They'd attempted to destroy the creatures, but had been nearly overwhelmed by the numbers, and been forced to flee.  Having, apparently, heard of Guar, Kedra, and myself, and our dealings with the dragon, and others, they'd come to the keep, seeking our aid.  I fully intended to go, but saw a chance to see of what sort of mettle our newcomers were made of.  I turned the decision over to Aiyana, Dayton, and Ranearal.  They had a bit of converse, but ultimately decided for the adventure.  

We left the very next morning, armed with weapons, and wearing the heaviest clothing we had.  The travel north, through the forest did not take too long…about three days or so.  Normally it might've taken longer, but the winter cold had cleared the trees and underbrush, so that we needed only walk, and not try to fight our way through the dense forest.

We were a few miles from our destination, when the first attack came.

I don't know what it was, and cannot think how to describe it…except that it was a huge mass of shadow which seemed to swallow light.  At first we thought it a spell and sought to break it, but then realized that the mass itself was a creature, and sentient, as well.  As we moved towards it, two pinpoints of light grew bright and red…then beams swept out from it.  I managed to jump back in time, but several of the others were hit by it.  It did nothing to them immediately noticeable…but they seemed slower, their attacks lacking from what they normally would've been…weaker.  Still, we attacked on, for it was in our way, and seemed to ooze evil emanations.  I sliced through it with my swords, and though I felt no resistance, as I would have had the creature been of flesh, it seemed to reel back in pain.  Only attacks by magical weapons seemed to harm it, and fortunately, many of us had such.  In short time, our attacks prevailed and it seemed to fade away into nothingness as a true shadow would, when introduced to a strong light.

Onward we went, until we crested the hill before the town that Roderic and Elvain had spoken of.  What we saw before us was horrifying in it's magnitude.  The "fair-sized" number of creatures that Roderic had so blithely spoken of was now no less than a small army of undead creatures…zombies and skeletons mostly.  They had surrounded the town below, as though waiting for something.  The town itself was walled and barred and shut up tight.  This was a siege.  And from the midst of the corrupt army, there rose a single tent, purple and black in hue…it immediately put me in mind of the robes of a priest of Bane…or the Zhentarim.  Still, there were no symbols…no identifying marks to give away the mastermind of whatever plot was working before us.  

We began to plan.  At first, I thought to go down and scout out that tent, with the aid of two kinds of invisibility spells…invisibility to the living, and to the undead.  Then Dayton volunteered for the task, and he seemed so eager that I let him have a chance.

He returned a half an hour later, with a tale of unpenetratable darkness within the tent.  I should have remembered that full humans had trouble seeing in the dark…but still, there was still light in the day…he should've been able to see something.  Next, Kedra and Ranearal decided to try to take out the tent from a distance.  Their twin fireballs blazed down the hillside from our hiding spot and struck true, but when the flame and smoke cleared, the tent still stood, untouched, unsigned.  The undead creatures moved about, as though seeking where the attack had come from.  At one point, Aiyana used some of her druidly powers and transformed her self into a hawk.  She swooped over the army and over the walls of the town.  A short while later, she returned saying that the townsfolk had no information, no knowledge of why they were being attacked, or by whom.  Our next idea was to create a distraction, using a bottle that could create magical smoke…lure as many of the undead into one area as we could, then blast them with arrows, and magic.  Unfortunately, when Dayton went down to set it off, the creatures did not react in the slightest to the smoke…then Dayton began attacked, and the others raced down to his aid.  Ranearal and Kedra began to pepper large groups with magical destruction by way of fire and heat.  So much for a plan.  Amidst the chaos, I slipped down the hill, and to the tent.  

The tent proved to be unimpervious to my knife, as I slashed a tiny opening in one wall, and peeked in.  Within the tent, there was a man…a half-elven man lying on the floor, on a pile of cushions.  He seemed to be sleeping.  He was alone.  So here was the leader.  And I thought, remove the leader and break the spine of any army…or so captain Takklinn had been telling me with his strange game.

I moved to the other side of the tent and made a larger opening, and with the skill of a cat, I slipped in and put my sword up to his throat.  The darkness in the tent suddenly vanished, and the man on the floor opened his eyes.  I didn't move at all, but dug the tip in more snugly, drawing a tiny smear of red.

"Greetings," he stated with a smooth, confident voice, as though he were not lying prone with a blade to his neck.  His eyes caught mine, and for a moment, I was stunned.  He was gorgeous…charming…perfect…I should listen to…

I shook my head suddenly, and though the thoughts were still there, I resisted the urge to obey them.  It seemed too strange…too unnatural.

"What can I do for you?"  He asked.

"Are you the leader of this army?" I demanded.

"I am.  Could you perhaps draw your sword away, that we might talk?"

"No.  Why are you attacking this town?  Whom are you working for?"  He smiled, so charmingly that had I not been resisting so hard, I might've forgotten what I was asking.  Something wasn't right…

"I'm afraid that I cannot divulge my Mistress's secrets, nor her identity.  But if you join us you could, of course, meet with her," he stated with all the pious belief of the most fervent priest.  A mistress?  I thought.  But there was no goddess who had anything to do with the kind of power this man was displaying.  No symbols within the tent either, for that matter.  

"Join you?  Are you crazy?  Whyever would I want to join with someone who is clearly evil…for only the evil would use an army of undead."  He merely smiled enigmatically, but did not respond immediately.  

"Would you tell your comrades to cease their attacks?  Then we could all speak civilly."  He finally said.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't do that.  There is nothing to talk about, unless you wish to remove your army from this town, cease your attacks, and discuss who it is you're working for."

"As I stated, if you join us, I shall be glad to speak of my Mistress."

And as I stated, I will not join with evil.  Stop your army now, or we will destroy it."

"You must let me up then," he said with a sigh that didn't sound overly upset.  I backed off a bit, but kept my sword right at his chest.  He closed his eyes for a moment, murmured something soft and arcane, then turned to regarded me again.  A moment later, from the slice I'd made in the tent, Aiyana entered.

"The army has fallen…as though the spell that animated them is gone."  I kept my eyes firmly on him, even as he looked over at her.

"Please, come in.  Sit down," he gestured at the pillows.  "Perhaps you would both care for a drink.  I could hardly believe it.  The little weasel was acting as though we were neighbors over for tea, and not adventures out to destroy him and whatever plot he was working.  I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Aiyana stare at him for a moment, then shake her head abruptly, as though clearing it.  I began to think that this one was trying to work some sort of magic on us.  I'd seen Sinyalla cast charm spells before, and I wondered if he was trying something similar.  I heard the others coming, the sound of the boots crunching the snow on their way to the tent.  Before I could warn them to be wary of magic, they all burst in, one after the other.  To my dismay, whatever power he had worked on the others where Aiyana and I had managed to resist.  When he once again suggested that we sit, in a tone that was more a gentle command than a request, all but myself, Aiyana and Guar immediately complied, with the eagerness of puppies.  Damn it all!  Guar came to stand next to me, and I could sense his concern.  Guar may not be a genius, but he was smart…he knew something was wrong, and knew that most of the party had come under the sway of fell powers.

"Please, sit.  You've no need of that."  The half-elven man gestured at my sword.  

"Yes, sit!"

"Raine, sit down!"

"Guar, Aiyana…"  The others implored us to do as they'd done…their eyes had a faint glaze to them…damn it!  Both of our arcane casters were under the man's control.  Aiyana drew up along my other side.

"Guar," I whispered, low.  "Evil?"  Guar muttered under his breath too low for me to hear, and so, hopefully too low for _him _to hear.  A moment later Guar nodded gravely, and his huge hands tightened perceptively on the haft of his axe.  Meanwhile, the others continued to implore us to do as the man wished, as though making him happy was the only matter of purpose for them.  Finally, I replied.

"He thinks it would be better if we remained standing, if that is how we are most comfortable," I snapped through gritted teeth.  "Don't you, sir?"

"Well, actually, I would prefer it if you would sit as well."   I really wanted to slug him.  The others raised their voices in complaint…and tried to draw the man's attention, introducing themselves.  Poor Kedra practically twittered…flirting like a bar maid…she would be so annoyed with herself later…if we managed to get to later.  While the party unwittingly distracted the man, I came up with a fast plan, and whispered softly to Guar and Aiyana.  I had to stop not only the man, but also the rest of our party, and with the latter I had to do it so they wouldn't be hurt.  I knew what to do…

"Guar, Aiyana.  When I say now, cover your ears and close your eyes for a second…then take out the main support of the tent."  They both nodded.  Guar would know what I meant to do…Aiyana might not, but I had to assume she would follow my instructions anyhow.  

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man stated, staring directly at us.  He'd heard, even over the loudness of the others…but he did not know what I meant to do…he would be as stunned as everyone else.  

"Guar, now!" I shouted…then screamed, and used the magic of the light gem I carried to create a blinding flash of white.  I opened my eyes and continued my wail, in time to see Aiyana's scimitar chop into one side of the pole, while Guar's axe finished the damage, and cleaved through.  The tent went down, with those stunned who needed to be.  I cut up, and through the material, and forced my way out of the tent…in time to see a strange, cohesive mist leave the tent, and move out onto the nearby field.  I noticed that the sun had set…  I moved after the mist quickly, suspecting, but not letting it reach my surface thoughts just yet.  The mist reformed, and the half-elven man stood there.  His face was angered, but still calm.

"I warned you," he stated.  In response, I attacked, driving my swords at him.  They connected well enough, and seemed to hurt him…but they put me within reach of him.  He struck back, the fist of his hand connecting hard with my face.  His skin felt cold…far colder than the chill winter air…I felt life leaving my body, torn from me by his touch…It left me feeling weakened…and then I knew what he was.  A creature Jael had spoken of in a hundred tales…one of the most powerful, most dangerous of all undead.  Dangerous for it looked human…and it could make you wish for your own undeath…make you enjoy its murderous attentions until it was too late.  I backed away quickly, and the gleam of two fangs in the row of white teeth when he smiled at me confirmed everything.

A bloody, damned vampire.

I had an idea, but before I could implement it, someone stuck me from behind, even as a bolt hit the vampire…and clattered away without penetrating his armor.  I turned to see Elvain, his eyes blank with the vampire's charm spell.  He was trying to stop me from attacking the vampire.  I glanced to the tent, the others were coming.  Aiyana dropped her crossbow, and chanted a spell.  I rifled through my bag, even as I dodge dual attacks from the vampire, and from Elvain.  By the tent, the grass beneath the snow began to grow and wrap around the feet and legs of the charmed party members…but they were managing to move through it, albeit slowly.  Guar was readying his bow.  I felt a box…got it!  I grabbed up Elvain in one arm…I would not kill him, for he couldn't help what was happening to him.  I tossed the box right over the vampire's head, spoke aloud the command word, and ran like the wind to get out of the radius of the "attack."  The box had belonged to Sinyalla…a magical tower that would appear when summoned.  It landed upright, with a thud…right where the vampire had stood.  Elvain howled, and struggled to break free from my hold…and then the mist began to seep up from the ground again, and I knew I had not killed the powerful being.  Damn it!!!  Then I had another idea…as the mist began to reform, I drew another weapon…my spear, from it's magical holding place.  A spear…long and pointed…made of wood.  I knew only how Jael had said to kill a vampire…and a spear seemed like a good stake to me.  The vampire reformed, and his eyes widened momentarily when he saw the weapon.  He tried to make a grab for Elvain…as a shield I suppose, but I threw the elf behind me, blocking him with my own body.  Guar came running towards us…an arrow hit the vampire, then landed on the ground as the vampire misted again.  Elvain tried again to attack me, hitting with both fists.  Tired of fighting him, I struck him in the head with the butt of my spear.  He fell soundless, unconscious.  I turned back to see that the vampire was now on the other side of the entanglement field.  The other party members were began to break free…and once Kedra and Ranearal were loose, we would have to deal with their potentially deadly magical attacks.  We had to stop this now!

I remembered another item I'd found, while adventuring, and drew it on.  I spoke the command word, and vanished from my place near, Guar…and reappeared behind the vampire, a heartbeat later…dimension doors were very useful, as Dazelin told me when he identified the cloak.

The vampire was thrown off guard, and did not have time to ready himself for the attack.  I drove my spear into his back, aiming for the heart.  He screamed hoarsely, and I rammed the spear in further...the tip came out on the other side of his chest.  The fire spell enchanted to the spear burned him…but I must have missed the heart, for he did not die, did not fall to dust, as he should have.  He was strong…very strong…he tried to turn his body, tried to pull the spear from my hands, but with the force of my will and my arms, I held him firm.  I drew back with the spear, until the tip was within his chest again…then thrust upward.  He wailed again as his own weight drove him further down onto the spear.  With a shout, I pushed upward again until he was suspended in the air, impaled on the spear.  If I could not get his heart, I meant to reach his head…hold him in place until Guar could get here and help.  I felt the impact of magic missiles, from one of my magic using friends hit me…but they dissipated harmlessly against the protective spell created by my Harper pin.  I held the vampire aloft, like some unholy flag for a few heartbeats, but he had one more trick left.  He vanished in the blaze of a spell…his form gone in a cloud of silvery motes.  I knew it was a spell, and that he was truly gone this time…that he'd not just misted again…I knew I had not killed him, but that the others were free from his charm spell, for they were shaking their heads, confused.  I knew all of this, but I could not react to any of it…for the moment the vampire had vanished, a jagged bolt of pain lanced through my skull, beginning at each of my two scars, and meeting in the middle with such ferocity it drove me to my knees. :Please….please…not now!:  I mentally pleaded…but when did anyone ever heed my pleas?  My vision went red, then dark, and the screams were torn from throat before my spear could even hit the snow…

It proved to be three days later when I finally awoke again…and I must say that waking up to see Guar's face only a few inches from the end of my nose, his face angry, was not a pleasant sight.

"Why you screaming?" he demanded.  I pushed away from him, to the other side of the bed, and sat up slowly, trying to clear my head.  

"Why you screaming?" he asked again.  About that time, the rest of the party members began to file into the room, similar questioning expressions on their faces.  Damn it.

"You screamed for three days," Kedra stated.  "Guar kept yelling at you to stop, but the more he yelled, the louder you got.  You broke a whole bunch of glass down at the bar…with your voice."  Kedra almost sounded impressed at the last.

"Why you scream?" Guar asked a third time.  Finally, I turned back to him.  I pulled the hair away from the temple of my head, and showed him the scar there.  His eyes widened perceptively.

"When I was little, I was hurt…the screaming has been happening ever since then, Guar.  I can't stop it, and I can't control it.  It's because I hurt my head, though."

"I can fix it," Guar said, but I shook my head before he could begin to chant a prayer.

"Don't bother Guar.  Lots of priests, more powerful than you are have tried.  There's nothing to be done, and it's as healed as it's going to get."

"What we do if you scream again?"  He asked.

"Just cast a spell of silence on me, that's what everyone else who ever knew about it did.  It's the only way to silence me."

"How did that happen?" Kedra asked, pointing at the scar.  I shrugged.

"It was a shipwreck, I think."

"Wow, talk about bad luck with ships," Kedra murmured.

"Why do you think I prefer to stay on land?" I countered.  

I manage to shoo them all out a bit later, and get cleaned, and rebraid my hair.  So they all knew, now…big deal.  They'd either put up with it or kill me the next time it happened, and either way, I wouldn't even be conscious to care.

We stayed a few more days at the town.  Roderic and Elvain decided to stay to help the town train a militia.  We headed back; after I ended up paying a hefty bill for the glass I'd broken while screaming.  Rather strange, that.  I know I was loud when I screamed, but I can't recall that I'd ever broken glass before, with the mere sound of my voice.

We arrived back at my keep a few days later.  A week after that there was a few days of warm weather, and we were able to head into town.  That was about when Guar came up with his great plan.  He arrived at the keep in the afternoon, looking sneaky…as only Guar could look sneaky, which is to say that he looked like he was trying to hide something.  He quickly sought me out, and told me what he'd done.  A wizard he'd met…he would not name the wizard, could cast a spell to bring my past back to me and maybe I could find out the actual reason for the screaming.  Guar actually tried to bribe me to go see the wizard with a box of sweets he'd purchased in town.  I laughed, and told him that he needn't've bribed me, as I would go with him if it meant that much to him.  But, I warned him that I doubted it would work…he seemed determined. Kedra tagged along with us, apparently a bit bored.  She'd been at the forge all week, working on weapons made from the dragon's teeth and claws. 

Strangely enough, I was not overly surprised when we arrived in front of Dazelin's house a few hours later.  I laughed.

"Guar, you didn't have to keep the wizard's identity a secret."

"Why, do you know him?" Kedra asked.  I laughed again.

"I should hope so…he's one of my lovers."  Kedra and Guar's eyes widened at that statement, and for a moment, I was sorry I'd said it.  I forgot that Kedra was most likely still a virgin…and Guar, well…it was hard to know, but he certainly never acted like a man with a great deal of carnal knowledge.  

We went in, and Dazelin looked up from his books and greeted us.  Guar handed Daz a bag of gold and said,

"I give half now, and the rest when you have answers."  Dazelin nodded.  Kedra and Guar left then, when Dazelin said that the spell would take some time to cast, and that they would have to quiet while the casting occurred.  I gather they went in to town and probably back to the keep.  I told them that I would see them tomorrow.  I didn't mind spending the night with Dazelin and I'm certain that he didn't either.  

Once we were alone, he asked me if I actually wanted him to cast the spell.  I told him that since Guar had paid him, he probably should try.  I didn't really think that it would work, but if it did return my memories to me…I suppose I would have to deal with it.  Dazelin began casting.  About halfway through, the spell began to work.  For a moment, I think that my lost memories began to return to me, but before I had a chance to examine them…to actually remember them, I began to scream…loud and fierce as familiar pain tore into my skull.  I saw Dazelin's spell fail...interrupted by my screams.  He was flung against the wall by the backlash…then I knew no more.

When I awoke this time, I was at least on a familiar bed, covered by silk sheets.  I sat up carefully, and looked about.  I was alone, and it was night out.  I got up and walked out of Dazelin's bedroom, to seek him out.  I found him in his kitchen, seated at the table, with a large chunk of ice held against his head.  He looked up as I walked in, then drew the ice away for a moment.  There was a large bruise on his head…no doubt where he had the wall.

  "So…did it work?" he asked.  I shook my head.  Apparently, I was not meant to remember, and whoever had decided this meant to enforce it… violently, if necessary.  I took pity on Dazelin, since he'd suffered for me…and I did some "things" with him to take his mind off his pain.  He didn't seem to mind the bruise so much after that.

I went back to the keep the next day, and informed Guar of the spell's failure.  He seemed upset, but not overly so.  He ended up giving me a rather nice harp he'd bought…apparently another bribe for going along with his attempts to "cure me".

The rest of the winter passed peacefully enough, although everyone was starting to go a bit stir crazy after so many months of being snowed in at the keep.  At least I had Andar to keep me occupied.  And he did a rather good job of it…  Strangely enough, I didn't become bored of his company, even after so long…and I've never had a lover who lasted more than a month or two…I always made certain to get rid of them before they could become too attached to someone they could never have.  I suppose I should've done the same to Andar by now, but somehow…I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  Every time I thought about it, I would decide "not yet."  I guess I am a bit weak…but somehow, I just wasn't ready to give him up yet.  I kind of liked waking up in the morning to see his face….and having his arms wrapped around me when I went to sleep at night.  I would get rid of him eventually…there were plenty of ways to do it…just…not yet.

Over the winter, Kedra discovered she had a "secret admirer."  The dwarf girl was all excited and happy when she showed me the flowers that the person had left for her, and the note along with it.  The "flowers" were very odd…a type I'd never seen before.  They looked…rocky, is the best way I can describe it.  Kedra said that they were a special type of flower that only grew in caves…I looked carefully at the note, and suspected the identity of the "secret admirer" immediately.  After all, he would be the only one in the keep to have access to the underground rooms, where he might have been able to find said flowers…or at least to use the tunnels that would take him beyond the keep walls.  Besides, he was the only dwarf at the keep besides Kedra.  Hmm...Captain Takklinn and Kedra.  I think they would make a nice couple.  However, I kept my suspicions to myself.  Takklinn could reveal himself to Kedra when he so chose, and I would not interfere…too much.

When the spring finally came, there was a great, collective sigh of relief throughout the inhabitants of the keep.  The snow began to melt, as the temperatures grew warmer.  Finally, the snow was gone and small shoots of green began to appear everywhere.  The trees clothed themselves in bright new leaves, and the flowers in Rossal's garden began to bloom.  I always liked the spring.  It was like a new beginning…a reawakening of life after a season of death.  Everything seemed new in the spring, and in the spring, I could almost believe that such things as curses and uncontrollable screams did not exist.

A few weeks after the onset of spring, and spring planting, Andar informed us that there would be a spring festival in a few days, in a field by Aencar's manor.

Now, everyone was excited and began to get ready for the festival.  You'd think we would have been wary, or at least more nervous, considered what had happened the last time we'd gone to a festival by Aencar's manor…but the tattoos were gone…there was nothing and no one controlling us anymore.  There was nothing to fear.  So we packed up goods and such into a wagon.  Most of the party members had some kinds of marketable skills, and meant to set up booths once they got there.  For myself, I brought all of my inks and needles, as well as a goodly supply of the giant bee honey from the hive below the keep.  

The festival was set up similar to the one from last year's Shieldmeet festival.  There were booths from merchants and wizards and temples from the entire area.  I set up my booth quickly, and had Andar sit there favor a bit while I helped the others.  Kedra set up a weapon booth, selling some of her weapons that she'd made, as well as some of the things that Jeblek had made over the winter.  Dayton had set up…believe it or not…a kissing booth!  And he already had customers forming a line.  A bargain, at only 5 silvers a kiss, considering Dayton was such a "nice" looking guy.  I laughed.  Ranearal had set up a questions and alchemy booth.  He would make alchemical substances, or answer any questions, for only a few gold.  His first customer was Guar, who was asking if Ranearal knew where Guar could find any female half-orcs.  Apparently orcs weren't common in the area, and so neither were half-orcs, and I watched, amused, as it took Ranearal a few moments to come up with an answer.

I went back to my own booth, and shortly after found myself with a, line of my own…lots of youngsters, and even a few older men who wanted tattoos…no doubt to prove their manliness to their friends.  It made no matter to me, and I gave them each what they wanted, for a small profit.  Andar wandered about the festival, talking with his friends from the church, and bringing me back food and drink every once in a while.  There was music and talking, and everyone seemed glad of the beautiful, sunny day, and the lack of snow.  

So when a large shadow passed overhead, and then a huge, silvery form actually crashed down out of the sky…directly into Aencar's manor, everyone was shocked.  Now, being adventurers means doing things that normal, sane people would never think of.  So with that in mind, we…myself and the rest of the party…headed straight for the manor, even as everyone else at the festival was headed the other way.  The guards outside the manor wall were highly bewildered, and they let us in when we demanded entrance.  

Aencar's manor was ruined.  The entire building had been destroyed and was now a heap of rubble…and coming from that rubble was a long silver tail.  It only took a minute to realize that a dragon had been what had crashed into the manor.  We ran up to it, and I remembered something that was very vital.  I touched the tip of the tail, which was still warm…still had life in it, and turned to Kedra and said,

"This is a silver dragon.  Jael always said that the metallic dragons were good."  Kedra nodded.

"Quick, we need to dig it out."

So she cast a spell and summoned up two huge ant creatures, which began to pull out the rubble.  The rest of the party arrived and we all began to move away debris as quickly as we could.  However, our attempts at a rescue were stopped as quickly as they'd begun, when two more shadows passed overhead, and landed on a pile of wood and stone nearby.  We looked over to see not one, but two red dragons…a bit small, but still larger than Guar, sitting there.  They each had a rider, and then three more people appeared.  It took me a moment of squinting, until I could make out the symbol on the clothing of the 5 people…the Cult of the Dragon.  I felt my anger begin to rise. One of them…obviously the leader, and a caster or sorts, stepped forward.  His robes moved in the breeze and there was a momentary silence, broken only by the sound of the ants, which were still doing what they'd been summoned for.

"This is our kill," the leader stated loudly.  "Leave now, and you shall not be harmed."  I answered him with a statement that committed us to battle.  There was no way I was going to let the Cult of the Dragon kill the silver dragon, or even take its corpse if it died.

"This is our rescue!"  I shouted back.  "Leave now, and we won't kill you!"

The battle erupted with a flurry of drawn weapons and arcane words.  Using the same item I'd used with the vampire, I stepped into a dimension door, and reappeared behind one of the cultists…a mercenary looking type.  He was dead before he even had a chance to turn around.  In front of me, the two red dragons moved forward, even as their riders climbed down and began to pepper the party with arrows and bolts.  The leader, clearly a wizard was casting as well, and a bolt of black energy raced towards the party and struck Guar.  Whatever it was meant to do failed, for Guar shrugged off the damage and drew closer to the dragons.  Kedra tried casting some sort of ice magic at the dragons, but they, too seemed to shrug off the effects.  A spell from Ranearal hit one of the mercenaries near me, even as Dayton charged into battle with another.  The spell seemed to stun the cultist, and he offered no resistance as I severed his life with my blades.  Spells and magic flew back and forth between the leader and our casters.  Guar was attacking one of the dragons, while Dayton battled with the last mercenary.  Suddenly, both dragons opened their mouths and breathed.  Here was the breath that was so feared by adventurer, noble, and commoner alike.  Gouts of bright fire shot out, searing the party members below.  I know that Guar and Kedra were both caught in it, but when the flame and smoke cleared, they were still standing…burned but still moving back to do battle.  Something hit the leader, and with another spell, he took to the air, flying.  I was not about to let him get away so easily.  I drew a potion from my belt…purchased from the strange creatures near the standing stones, back before we'd fought the first dragon.  Drinking it down quickly, I gained the ability of flight as well, and shot into the air after the wizard.

He tried to cast at me, but in the air I am just as quick, and managed to dodge the bolts.  His face registered surprise when I attacked him…when my cutlass actually penetrated his flesh.  I'm sure he'd had up some sort of protection spell, but my sword had been enchanted to get past those kinds of spells.  I screamed my infamous battle cry…a wail of such pitch that it shocked those who were not prepared…a sound to match the sound my cutlass made.  It stopped the spell that the leader had been trying to cast, but he recovered quickly and dashed off another spell…this one actually hurt when it hit me.  From below, I vaguely caught the sound of Ranearal, chanting a spell that was becoming familiar to me.  I struck at the leader again, and barely got out of the way as a fireball of huge proportions slammed into the leader.  It killed him, of course, and I just barely managed to catch the charred corpse before it fell.  Looking down, I saw that there was only one dragon left standing.  I flew until I was directly over it, and then hurled the body of the leader down at it.  The body worked like a kind of missile, and hit with great force, as we'd been rather high off the ground while battling.  The dragon was momentarily stunned, and that gave Guar the time he needed.  With a roar, Guar cleaved into the dragon's skull…he was in a rage, I could tell.  The blow killed the dragon, but Guar continued to attack, his rage not yet worn out.  I landed a few moments later, even as he was beginning to wind down.  

Quickly, we headed back to the silver dragon.  Most of us were hurt…even myself, for the wizard had managed to cast a spell or two, which I hadn't been able to dodge.  We began to resume our digging, telling Guar to be ready to heal the dragon, when the rubble began to rumble and fall away.  We backed up quickly as the head and body of the silver dragon rose shakily from the ruin of Aencar's manor.  It looked very weak…I could see that it was bleeding heavily.  In a trembling voice, in the common tongue, it spoke.

"Thank you for your aid, friends."  

"Guar," I said,  "quickly, heal it."  But even as Guar moved forward, the dragon shook its graceful head.

"No.  It is too late, and my time is upon me.  I will go to my fate, and be glad that I have been saved from an existence as a servant of such evil folk.  You have my gratitude for that.  And…when I leave this world, I gift you with my scales.  You may use they without fear of retaliation, for Bahumut, himself will bless them, and you.  No one will think that you got the scales by ill means…or think evil of you for wearing them.  May they protect you as they have protected me.  This is my gift to you for what you have done for me this day…"  We were silent as the dragon lay back down, and closed its eyes.  It only took a minute for the dragon's erratic breathing to slow…to finally stop.  Then, the body of the dragon seemed to vanish, leaving only a pile of silvery scales behind.

I felt saddened.  We'd fought so hard to save the dragon, and all for naught as it had died anyhow.  I've never before seen a good dragon…or any dragon besides the one we'd killed last fall…but I felt a sense of loss for not having had a chance to know this one.  Even though it had only been in my life for a few minutes, I sensed that the dragon was as good as Jael had always said, and that it might've have been a good friend, given the chance. Now, it was gone, and us never even knowing its name.  And I felt a burning, as well…a hatred for the Cult of the Dragon…a hatred like I hated the Zhentarim…and the giants…and the pirates of Nethlander…  How dare these groups…these collections of evil steal yet another good life from this world?  And a dragon…a good dragon…they were so rare and this one would never live again…how dare they?!  I did my best to calm, though, for it would not do to show anyone my inner thoughts. 

We gathered up the scales, with a degree of reverence, at least on my part.  This was no evil dragon to be cut apart and sold as we'd done with the last…the scales were to be respected, as one would respect the body of a fallen friend.  He'd wanted us to use the scales, and so we would…We collected up what was salvageable from the Cultists, and I sent a message to Dazelin asking him if he could come and collect the bodies of the two red dragons.  As with the last dragon, we could make money from them…and while one was rather beat up…Guar's, the other did not look as though it had been touched, for Kedra had killed it with a very powerful spell.  He arrived shortly and took the corpses back to Ashabenford with him by magic means.  He would get things started there, by making the same deals with the armorer and the innkeepers as we had the last time.

We briefly explored the ruins of the manor, and came across something interesting…a very familiar gateway made of stone.  Curiously, I put my hand up to the stone and said,

"Part the Veil of the universe for me."  The portal opened, and standing before us were several very surprised looking purple dragon soldiers.

"Who are you?"  They demanded, quickly bringing their weapons to bear.  I held my hands up in a non-aggressive manor.

"Whoa, hold on!  We're the ones who found the place you're in.  We explored it for Cormyr at the behest of your Lord Hawklin and your Captain Dunman at the Black Crater."  They seemed to relax a bit at familiar names.

"Where are you…where does this portal lead to?"  One of them asked.

"This is…er…was Aencar's manor, in Battledale, near Essembra.  It's ruined now, but the portal still stands, obviously."

"Very good, then.  We shall make a note of it."  Then Guar said something I almost hit him for…well, I did kick him…

"One of your friends is evil, now."

"What?" asked one of the purple dragons.  I quickly kicked Guar in the shin.

"Nothing…we just finished fighting some dragons and Cultists here…that's why the manor was destroyed.  He meant that we fought some evil dragons, right Guar?"  Guar seemed confused, but nodded.

"Yes.  I meant that," he said.    Kedra shot me an odd look as well, but I ignored it.  If they wanted an explanation, I'd give it later, but not now.  I may not have liked Durand, but I don't think his family should suffer for his actions.  It didn't really matter that they were nobles…it would no doubt be hard enough to accept that Durand was dead, again…let them at least think that he died with honor.  If that meant I had to lie about what had happened, and force Kedra and Guar to lie to, then so be it.

We shut the portal again, not wanting to bother the purple dragons any more, and headed out of the manor.  Around the gate into the inner walls of the manor, there were the guards, and a small crowd of other folk, who'd come to watch, apparently.  They were all staring, wide-eyed and open mouthed at us, as we walked out.  I gave them a grin and a wink, even though I felt pretty battered and drained from the fight.

"Don't worry…problem's all taken care of." We headed back to the festival then, and fortunately, Andar found me quickly and he and Guar healed everyone up.  

The rest of the festival was spent in merriment.  There was a great deal of dancing and singing, music and laughter.  Dayton, we discovered that night was not really a fighter after all, but a bard.  He began to sing at one point… and was pretty good too.  I could hardly help pulling out my harp and letting my fingers play along with his voice.  I'd hazard to say that people enjoyed the song, judging by the applause we recieved.  A dance started up and Ranearal, who seemed to be avoiding the actual party part of the festival, was drawn into the circle by a moon elven girl.  By the end of the night there was no sign of Ranearal…or the girl.  I danced with lots of people, but Andar kept drawing me back to him, and did his level best to remain the center of my attention.  Did a pretty good job, at that, since it seemed that I was with him every other song or more.  Needless to say, that in honor of Chauntea and the spring planting, Andar and I did our "duty" and "blessed" a newly tilled field with our…presence.

We headed back to the keep the next day.  On our way back, we passed near to where the standing stone is, and I remembered that the contest Saldenon had wanted to go to would be coming up soon…no more than a few days.  I wondered if the weird magic-dealers would be there waiting, as they promised to him?  And thinking such, I mentioned it out loud…and the others seemed interested.  I explained to them what little I knew, but decided that if they wanted to know more and maybe even join this contest, that I would take them up to the standing stones in a few days…as soon as I got everything settled with the dragons.

I went into town while they continued onward, and checked up on things.  The tanner was busily skinning the two dragons and the innkeeper was already advertising menus.  The silver dragons scales we gave to a man in town that made armor…and he told us he would turn the scales into a fine breastplate in a week or so.  I paid him, and told him to deliver it to the keep when he was done.  With everything in hand, I went back to the keep.  

The next day, I sent a message to Inialos, telling him that I needed to meet with him.  I wanted to find out what he'd found out about the towers, since now that the ground was no longer frozen, it was time to get the elven tower started.  I spent the rest of the next day doing regular chores…planting and such.

On the morning of the third day back, I got a message to meet with Inialos in the woods.  So, I headed out into the woods around the keep. He found me first, no doubt owning to the fact that he is a ranger, and I'm not.  I asked him about the towers and he told me that he'd found three or four, which would suit my purposes.

"I actually found them before winter set in, but by that point the only thing to do was to wait for spring," he stated

"Well, I wanted to get the construction started.  I was going to ask the dwarves if they wanted to do it, but this is a tower for the elves...what do you think?"  I asked him.  He mulled the idea over for a few minutes of blessed silence.

"I'll speak with the others in the area, ask if they want to help or what.  Personally, I think it would be a good idea to have both work on it…a tie to bind, so to speak."

"Good idea!" I exclaimed, and it was. Better to have the two races working together, than not at all.  

"Well, then, I'll ask around…and in the meantime, are you going to have wagons sent to get the stone?"  I nodded.  He nodded in return.  The important conversation was done with…so when he opened his mouth to begin his usual chatter, I managed to kiss him before he could get a sound out.  Inialos grinned when he pulled away for a moment, and eagerly began to tug my clothing off.  It was only fair that I return the favor.

So, there we were, in the middle of the woods…completely naked.  Naturally, I assumed we wouldn't be bothered out there.  My lips locked with his, back against a tree, with my legs wrapped around his waist, Inialos buried deep inside me…that was how Andar found us.  

At first I thought I was dreaming when I heard his voice, loud and angry and full of pain.

"Raine!!!!"  But, when I peeked over Inialos' shoulder, and saw him…face tense, eyes wide at the edge of the clearing, I knew I wasn't.  He turned his back, and stalked away…and it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never mentioned Inialos…or Dazelin for that matter, to Andar.  Or rather, I'd mentioned them, but not the fact that they were also my lovers.  I got the feeling that Andar was…upset.  Besides, having a shouting person come upon you rather ruins the whole mood.  Inialos seemed to sense this as well, and he finished up with a few more thrusts…leaving me rather unsatisfied…damn Andar.  Hurriedly, we drew our clothes back on, Inialos giving me a questioning look.  For once, he had his mouth shut.  

I did not rush to where Andar was waiting, but forced myself to walk casually over there.  He was pacing around muttering under his breath.  His hair was disheveled, as though he'd dragged his hands through the sun-streaked, brown strands a few times.  Then, he did something I didn't really expect from Andar… He turned and saw us walking up, and without warning, he grabbed Inialos by the front of his shirt.  Andar lifted the bewildered moon elf off the ground, his hands fisting in the material.  Once Inialos' feet were dangling by a good few inches, Andar shook him violently.

"You elven bastard!"  He growled, an edge to his tone that I'd never heard before.  Inialos tried to remain calm, but obviously was not happy with the idea that his feet were not touching the ground.

"W-what?  Please…p-put me down!  I  d-didn't do…"

"How dare you touch her?!"  Andar punctuated the question with another shake.  Enough, I thought, about then.  It wasn't Inialos' fault that I hadn't told Andar anything.

"Andar Hawklight!  You put him down!"  I commanded.  To my surprise, Andar complied…although he dropped Inialos from a greater height and with more force than was truly called for.  Inialos immediately got to his feet and scrambled out of easy grabbing range.

"Inialos," I said to him, without turning. "You can go…this doesn't concern you."

"No!," Andar nearly shouted.  "You stay!"  Inialos looked as though he were ready to bolt, but held his ground none the less.  I don't know if it was in regards to Andar's command, or out of some misguided notion of wanting to protect me from Andar.

I looked up at Andar…and caught his eyes.  The look in them tore at me and filled me with unfamiliar guilt.  There was anger...bordering on rage in his brown eyes…confusion…and worst of all was hurt and pain…I felt, for a moment, like I'd actually physically hurt him.  But I knew that couldn't be true.  No man loves any woman enough to be that hurt, for one thing.  I couldn't believe how awful I felt at that moment…it was not as though it was the first time this had happened.  Hells, I went out of my way with over-bearing lovers to make certain that they caught me another…so that they would want to leave.  I didn't want Andar around to be hurt by me…so, here was my great chance.

"Why?"  He asked, that one word so brimming with hurt and betrayal that I felt lower than a one-legged kobold.  

"I never promised you anything," I stated defensively.  Good answer, I mentally sneered at myself.  

"But…but I thought…?"

   "What?  That you were my only lover?  You know better than that.  I certainly wasn't any virgin the first time we had sex."  He seemed to wince at the last word…spoken harshly as though it meant little to me, what we had done.

"I assumed…that…that if you were with me…that…" He seemed to be having trouble saying what he meant, for once…a first in my experience with Andar.

"I never said that…not once.  Why does it matter to you anyhow?  We're lovers…that all.  You're not my husband… I said no vows to be faithful…I have no intentions of being with only one man…I'll probably never marry…you're just another man," I said, trying to be cruel to him…it wasn't as though it weren't true, after all.  I probably never would marry…and he was just another man in a long line of lovers…wasn't he?  But somehow, I felt the cruelty of my words and they hurt me to say almost as much as they might've hurt him to hear.  I looked up at him again…and what I saw there frightened me for a moment.  The other emotions were still there but there was a new one as well… and it seemed to grow stronger than the rest as I watched.  Determination.

He stepped forward and grabbed my arms tightly, forcing me to look up at him.  For a minute I wondered if he meant to strike me.  It wouldn't have been the first time that had happened…but for Andar, it would be the last time.

"Go ahead.  Hit me.  You won't be the first," I taunted him, damning my mouth for speaking before I could think.  His eyes narrowed perceptively.

"I would never hit you, Raine…I love you."  It was said simply...perhaps with just a hint of confusion beneath the words.  But they had the effect of being slapped, for me.  I yanked my arms away from him.

"No, you don't!"  I instantly protested.  He couldn't…I wouldn't let him do anything so foolish.  

"You don't!  If you try to force me to stay with you…I'll…I swear I'll sleep with every man within a hundred miles!  I don't owe you anything!  You're just another man!  I can sleep with whomever I want, and you get no say in it!  You might as well get used to it or leave."  I backed away the whole time.  And there was a gleam in his eyes…a brightness that made me think that I should never have issued such a challenge.  Damn him!  Damn him…Damn it all to the nine hells…how could he go and do such a stupid thing?!  So I'm a coward…I admit it…but I have to make him understand that he doesn't love me…it's just sex…and I certainly don't…I would never love…oh the hells with it.

So I ran away.  Or rather, I ran back to the keep, abandoning the woods, Andar, and his anger, and leaving Inialos to Andar's mercies.  Honestly, I didn't think that Andar would actually hurt the elf…and besides, if nothing else, Inialos is very quick…far more quick than Andar, anyhow.  Back at the keep, I made a quick decision.  We would head out to the standing stones in the morning and find out what the whole contest was about.  Most likely I would enter it, I figured, so long as the stakes weren't too high.  I had to get away from Andar before he ended up getting himself killed.

The next morning, as we were getting our gear ready, Kedra asked what the rush was.  Foolishly, I told her.  Kedra's eyes widened when I explained that Andar was angry with me for having sex with Inialos.  And in her annoying innocence, she asked,

"But Raine…what about that wizard you're sleeping with?"  I knew she meant Dazelin, for she'd been there to hear that particular comment.  And wasn't it just my bloody, damned_, fucking, _luck that Andar was standing just around the corner to hear that blessed little comment?!  

"What?!!"  I heard him shout, the same fury from yesterday back in his voice.  I caught sight of him just as we were riding out.  Captain Takklinn knew where we were headed, and I assumed that being gone for a while would give Andar time to reconsider the folly of his…declaration.  As soon as we cleared the gate, I muttered,

"Thanks a lot, Kedra," sounding anything but thankful.  Kedra...that scheming little dwarven witch…just shrugged.  This kind of trouble was all I needed at this point in my life.  I didn't want to leave…not after working so hard to get as far as I have…but I can't just let Andar kill himself.  Besides…he can't really mean that he loves me…why the hells would any man want to do that?  I was trouble, and damned if I hadn't already tried to tell him that.  Oh, well…I'd have to come up with something…but for now, I'd give Andar time to cool off…give myself time to think a bit.  I can't believe I feel so bad about this…

So we headed up to the standing stone.  The merchants, whom we later learned were called Mercain or something like that, were there as they'd promised Saldenon.  We entered the tent with the one who'd first spoken of the contest.  He did not seemed surprised to see us, but he did notice the lack of several members of our party as well as the addition of several others.  After getting the introductions over with, we asked about the contest.  The mercain pulled out the poster, which had the announcements on it.  The contest was to be held in a place called Acheron, with the main prize being some sort of powerful, magical headband.  When asked, the mercain told us a bit about how the betting went on for the contest…the only items one could bet were magical items or gems…no coin.  And if you were in the contest, you could not bet at all on anyone.  Since I assumed that once we got there everyone in the party would be entering, I decided I needed someone who wouldn't be entering to do the betting for us.  To that end, I sent a message to Dazelin, telling him to pack for a short vacation and to meet us at the standing stone as soon as possible.  Dazelin coming would serve several purposes.  One, he could do the betting for us, two, he would not be around for Andar to find, should Andar decide to seek Dazelin out, as I had no illusions that Andar did not know what "wizard" Kedra had spoken of…and three, I would have a bed partner for the next few days that wasn't angry at me.  Why that last part should make me feel a bit guilty…I don't really know…

Dazelin showed up about ten minutes later, wearing a backpack and carrying his flaming dagger as his only weapon…besides the obvious, of course.  He seemed a bit bewildered and was muttering under his breath in his drow language.  I'm sure he was not being very complimentary, judging by his tone.  When he asked where we were going, I explained to him that we were headed for a contest out of town for a few days and needed his help with the betting.  Fortunately, he didn't argue, and seemed resigned to going along with us.  

Now, I assumed that the contest was just on some other part of the mainland, somewhere…so when we the mercain brought us magically, to a place with bloody, red skies with strange cubes floating where clouds might've been…some of the cubes, I could've sworn had buildings on them…and a huge, columned arena surrounded by stone buildings…and creatures, the like of which I'd never dreamed of walking about…I was somewhat…disturbed.  Ranearal seemed to recognize a great deal of the creatures walking by, and he pointed them out to us, spouting strange names like, Githyanki, Githzerai, and Ifriti…then he spoke more familiar words like Devil, Demon, Celestial, and Elemental.  I saw giants…that were nothing like the Firbolg I knew of.  There was a minotuar…a creature I'd heard of in legend, but never seen…only this was seemed to be on fire…as though it were natural.  Finally, I managed to ask just where Acheron was.  The answer was nothing what I expected.  The best Ranearal could do to explain was that it was another plane of existence that was somewhere near the nine hells.  That was all I needed to hear.  All my concern about my soul, and here we were, about to enter a contest…in Hell.  I suppose the wise thing would've been to head back to Toril immediately, but I never claimed that we were wise.

Just in front of us, suddenly, the most beautiful being I'd ever seen walked into view.  The men in the party all stopped in their tracks, as though arrow shot.  Even I stared, for though the being was a woman, she was magnificent.  I felt a twinge of envy…I never thought of myself as bad looking…odd…but fairly pretty…this girl was the embodiment of beauty…no one should look that good.  She seemed to radiate good like sinyalla radiated light…in fact this woman sort of radiated light as well.  She seemed elven…a golden skinned variety, like Ranearal…she was carrying a harp…and if she had had wings I would've thought her to be one of Jael's angels.  Ranearal and Dayton immediately ran over to try to impress her with their wit…they fell rather short of impressive, but the woman smiled graciously anyhow.  Guar seemed dumfounded and stood still, and I kept a firm grip on Daz, just to make certain he didn't go anywhere.  Upon seeing that such a creature could walk…and was willing walking around…and especially when she informed us that she was a contestant in the tournament, we decided that maybe it would be all right to stay…just for the contest.  

We found our way to the table where contestants could sign in, and learned the rules of the contest.  Anyone could enter, provided they had the fee…one magical item of any power level, so long as it was fully charged.  I handed over a magical arrow as my fee. Cheap, I know, but I wanted to save the better stuff for betting purposes.  There was no killing allowed…and if accidental death occurred, they assured us that there were plenty of clerics of many different faiths that would be standing by to raise anyone who died.  There was to be no poisons used, and no magical items that cause instant death would be allowed.  Anyone who entered and violated any of those rules would be killed, and disqualified.  Nice…  I mentioned something about how there was no way I was entering if I had to put my soul on the line.  The mercain, who seemed to be running the contest seemed to be insulted by the comment, and pointed out two booths nearby to avoid…booths that had demons seated at them…apparently in the trade of buying souls.  I shuddered.  We also learned that the way the contest worked was that if a person lost; their opponent could take from that person any one magic item they chose.  If a person withdrew from the fight…for any reason, they still had to give up an item, but it would be an item of their choice, and not the winners.  Once you lost a fight you were out of the contest for good.  You had to win to advance to the next tier.  There were to be 5 rounds of the contest.  

So I figured, why not?  I had plenty of magical items that weren't very important…and if I was worried about losing I could always withdraw and keep the items that were important…like my swords.  Everyone else signed up as well…except Guar, to our surprise.  Kedra and I attempted to talk him into joining…after all I had meant to bet on him to win, as I had the last time we were all in a contest, and he eventually gave in…especially once we told him that there might be some pretty, half-orc women in the audience.  I got the feeling that Guar was lonely for female companionship of his own species.

We got a room at the inn...strange to think that there are inns in Hell…and went to sleep.  I felt no need to wander around, and wanted to rest up before the competition began.  

We slept for about eight hours or so…it was hard to tell due to the lack of a sun.  After eating…the food actually looked fairly normal, but we had Guar check it for poisons first…we went over to the coliseum where the battle was to be fought. We were each able to learn the name of our competitors by asking the Mercain, when we sent Dazelin over to find out the odds. Ranearal was the first party member who would be doing battle.  His opponent was Selfath, a huge, blue, froggy looking creature called a Slaad.  At 5 to 1, the odds were against him.  I was next after Ranearal, fighting something called the Brutalizer…no description given…wonderful.  Aiyana came next, fighting some sort of hill giant thing, with an unpronounceable name.  Then was Kedra against a creature just called Skork…then Dayton against Evlathania, the beautiful elf woman we'd seen the day before. Finally, Guar would be paired with a vampiric goblin called Zaples.  The odds were, strangely enough, against Guar…I guess the bettors didn't know that Guar was a cleric.  The odds were against everyone in the party, however, I still bet on everyone…remembering the time that Saldenon had one-second place in the bard contest, even though he was about the most un-charismatic person in the world.

The rules were fairly simple: no poison, no killing, and no weapon of magic that causes death, and no charming people to surrender.  Killing an opponent would result in instant disqualification.  The dead person would be raised, but as they had been defeated, they also would not be allowed to continue on.  You could only lose once.  Fights were limited to no more than five minutes.  Everyone had about one minute at before every fight to cast spells, or to have others cast protective and enhancing spells on them.

Then the battles began.  Now, I'm not much for fight descriptions, so I'll be fairly brief.  Ranearal easily defeated the Slaad, using a combination of flight, invisibility, and stoneskin spells.  It could not see him, track him, or hurt him, and so the gold elf won.  My fight proved to be against a demon…a demon! Of all things.  I managed to attack it from behind the first time, using my dimension door cloak.  And, with both my weapons blessed with the holy ability, I hurt the thing.  It was big and tough, but I was quick and managed to avoid its claws most of the time.  The few times that it did connect, it hardly got past the stoneskin spell that Daz had cast on me.  I beat it profusely, and it finally surrendered, just before I could knock it out.  

Aiyana's fight went badly…the hill giant was actually some sort of warped version of a real hill giant, with strange powers and tentacles coming from its body.  It ended up killing Aiyana, and being disqualified from the contest.  Aiyana was rather bitchy and irritating after she failed, and I tried to avoid her.  Kedra had an easy win, when her opponent proved to be an ice troll.  With Kedra's penchant for fire, one display of a huge fireball was enough to get thee troll to accept defeat.

Then came Dayton's fight.  Now, I know that the pairings of the opponents were random, but whoever decided to put two bards together should be beaten.  I know that five minutes doesn't really seem like a long time, but in combat it can stretch out like an eternity.  The elf woman, who was obviously not an elf, and was obviously above Dayton's league seemed immune to most of his attacks, while Dayton finally gave up trying to hurt her, and began to trying to strangle her, to cut off her too-persuasive voice, and knock her out that way.  On and on it went…he would grab her, she would wriggle free, he'd catch her again…finally she managed to get her hands on her rapier, which he'd managed to knock away.  Her hand closed around it, just as he grabbed her again, around the throat.  She managed to defeat him by poking him with the dagger in the leg…it must have been magical, which is the only explanation I can think of.  Dayton finally collapsed.  The battle had taken almost the entire five minutes.  The elf graciously healed him, but then Dayton disgraced himself…he pulled away from her, a nasty sneer on his face, and spat at her.  The poor elf looked shocked, as though she couldn't understand why he'd done such a thing. So Dayton lost…rightly so, I thought, if he behaved with such disrespect towards his opponent.  

Guar won his fight, not unexpectedly, though he seemed to play with Zalpes a while, even though he probably could have smote him immediately.  Out of the rest of the contestants, the two most notable were the two favored to win…a huge minotuar with fire –elemental heritage called Blaze, and a strange ogre magic with a shadowy form of magic, named Jervai.

We had a day to rest, and the next round began.  Ranearal put up a magnificent battle of magic and spells against another wizard…a human named Horval.  Ranearal won by only the slightest margin, but won nonetheless, to advance onward.

My battle was against a creature that had control over the earth…I believed that Dazelin called it a Dao, which is something like a genie…not that I knew what that was either.  Using a fly spell to avoid any earth based attacks, and another invisibility spell, I gained the upper hand in the fight against Evral.  I won, and advanced as well.

Kedra fought another dwarf…a male who put her brother to shame for chauvinism.  The disgusting little pig hurled insult after insult at the dwarf girl about her sex and her ability to use magic.  Kedra stayed cool and calm, and it was that same spell casting ability that won her the fight.  He, like Dayton was a sore loser, but fortunately, he did not spit at her, or I fear that Kedra would have forgotten the contest and gone for the kill, dwarf or no.

Guar's second fight was a nerve-wracking one, especially since I'd bet a bit on him.  He was up against a huge stone giant, which seemed perfect in everyway.  The giant was not stupid…and struck precisely at Guar.  Guar reeled from the powerful blows, and was forced to retreat to heal himself after two hits by the giant's weapons.  I feared for a moment that Guar would fail…for he did not seem to be doing enough damage to the other.  A twist of fate occurred, and the giant stumbled, dropping his club.  Guar ran in, and roared, striking the giant hard.  The giant regained his weapon and hit Guar…they both looked equally as bad…as though one more hit would drop either one…fortunately, Guar got that hit in.  The giant stood for a moment, as though dumbfounded, and fell with a thud that seemed to shake the seats of the coliseum.  Guar won, for the giant was out…but not dead.

Once again, we retuned to the inn after the fights, to rest for the battle the next day.  I must admit, that my eyes strayed a few times as we walked over, for there were some amazing looking people in the crowd…however, as I smiled at one tasty looking example of a man, with ink-black hair, and equally dark eyes, Dazelin grabbed my arm and steered me away.

"You don't want him," he told me with a laugh.

"Why not?" I asked, momentarily irritated, for the other had been smiling back, invitingly.

"Because if you had sex with him, he'd suck out your very life…he's an incubus."  When I looked at him blankly, he clarified.

"A type of demon."  I was all too happy to return to the inn as quickly as possible.  After all, at least with Dazelin, I knew that sleeping with him would kill me…it's so sad to realize that things aren't always as they seem…especially in the case of gorgeous, life-sucking demons.

To my chagrin, I found myself still thinking about Andar, even though I'd gone to another plane to get my mind off him.  I still felt awful for some of the things I'd said to him.  I wondered what he was doing at the moment…was he wondered where I was?  Or had he gotten the information out of Captain Takklinn by now?  Was he still upset, or had he calmed down?  Then another though occurred to me…and it wasn't not a pleasant one…I wondered if he'd decided to turn the tables on me…was he even now in the bed of some other woman?  What did I care if he was?  But I did care, somehow…and I don't know why…I couldn't understand when it was that Andar's regard became so important to me.  I sighed.  Finally, I turned to Dazelin, determined to drive Andar from my thoughts.  Dazelin did his level best to see that I was distracted…but it didn't completely succeed…damn that miserable priest!

The next day's battles began with Ranearal fighting Blaze, the current champion of the tournament.  Ranearal put up a spectacular fight and an even better show, if I liked watching fighting, that is.  However, he lost.  Blaze managed to send attacks, both magical, and physical at Ranearal until Ranearal fell.  Even though Ranearal was invisible, Blaze seemed to be able to sniff out where the wizard was to attack him.  With Ranearal out of the running, it was my turn.

I ended up having to fight an ifriti…some kind of fire genie thing.  Like my opponent before him, this one was almost ridiculously easy to beat.  Seeing as I was invisible, he couldn't see me, and I managed to knock him out within a minute of the onset of the fight.  As my prize, I took a book he had…it looked interesting…something about a manual of quickness.

Guar and Kedra both defeated their opponents as well...Guar fighting the other favored to win, Jervai, some sort of Ogre mage, and Kedra fighting one of the foulest, smelliest rude dwarves I'd seen yet.  He put Kedra's brother to shame for sheer chauvinism, as well.

The second to last round of battle began the following morning.  It would be Blaze versus myself, and Kedra battling Guar.  Naturally, the odds were very high against me…it didn't seem to matter how quickly I'd taken out my opponents…no one seemed to think I could defeat Blaze, except for my party members of course. They all bet rather large sums on me.  Ranearal, eager that I should defeat Blaze, seeing as he hadn't. He offered to cast some spells on me…so did Dayton, and Aiyana for that matter.  Aiyana's spell proved to be the most useful.  She cast on me a spell that would allow me to "see" Blaze without using my eyes.  It worked so that I could tell where he was by his movements.  That gave me a great idea, and I felt confident, for the first time since setting eyes on that monster, that I would have a fair chance.  So when I entered the coliseum, I was protected by spells of invisibility, stoneskin, haste, protection from evil, protection from fire… by spells that made me faster, stronger, and better able to handle damage…by Aiyana's blind-fighting spell, and by a special kind of healing spell, that Dazelin claimed would only go off if I took a great deal of damage.

I took my best weapon firmly in hand, and held Winter's Eye in the other.  I'd left my Banshee's Wail with Dazelin, on the chance that Blaze might defeat me…I didn't want it taken.  Kedra had lent me a powerfully enchanted short sword in its place, though.  Blaze was across the area from me, and he was moving towards me, sniffing away.  I knew that, like Guar, he was picking up my scent, and would be able to defeat my invisibility spell that way.  I realized that the only way to stop him from finding me, and therefore, attacking me, was to block his sense of smell…and I had one such item that would work, but it would also blind Blaze and myself…but with Aiyana's spell…  Blaze approached…I un-stoppered the weapon…my bottle of ever-smoking.  The thick black smoke it created began to pour out and fill the area.  I threw it so that it landed at Blaze's feet.  It didn't matter if he found it…as long as I had the stopper, he could not stop the smoke.  As I thought, the acrid smell made it impossible for him to find me...with either his nose or eyes. Confidently, I moved into an attack position behind him…and struck.  It was too easy…both blades sank into his skin, and I jerked them back out again as he began to turn, so that they would not be torn from my hands.  Blaze roared…I felt a bit of fear…but not as much as I originally expected too.  This was no dragon, after all…and I would not be dying.  Blaze began to flail around wildly, swishing through the smoke with his weapons.  My spell was working just so, and even with my eyes shut, it was like seeing exactly where he was, even though it was more of his shape that I saw, than his features.  I continued to methodically attack him, then move a bit and repeat my actions.  He hit me a few times with his wild swinging…and boy, that was enough.  Even a glancing blow from him seemed to hit like a sledgehammer…only worse, because it had appointed edge to it.  The stoneskin hardly seemed to help…he kept roaring, enraged, and swinging like a madman.  I kept hitting him, but he didn't seem fazed.  Finally, it occurred to me, that like Guar, Blaze was in a rage, and there would be no stopping him until he dropped.  With that in mind, I began to carefully measure my attacks…to wound, but not kill.  If I killed him, then I would lose.  He hit me again, and I felt a sudden surge of healing energy rush through me as Dazelin's spell went off.  With renewed strength, I pressed on, relentlessly…in a kind of trance myself. blade...attack…hit…sink…blood… away…move…attack…again…  then, I heard shouting, heard the referee shouting as a group of Ifriti rushed into the ring.  I realized that I should stop, so I grabbed up my bottle and re-stoppered it.  As the smoke cleared, I saw that Blaze looked awful…like a giant cat had gotten a hold of him with her claws…oops… The Ifritis apparently owned Blaze, and they were telling him to stop, trying to calm him down…and I realized that Blaze had lost…he was withdrawing from the fight…I'd won.  I looked over to where the crowd was.  There was an awed silence from the mob…and then I heard several people cheering.  My fellow party members were jumping up and down in their seats like demented frogs, shouting and cheering…I've no doubt it was because I'd just won them a ruddy fortune in magical items and gems.  After all…I doubted that very many people would have bet on me.  Blaze was an undefeated champion and weighed probably five times more than I do…I'm a nobody with a sword.  Their loss, I suppose…though I don't imagine I'll be well liked.  Figuring I should say something, I merely raised my swords…dripping and bloody into the air, and shouted, 

"Toril!"  And with that grand speech…I exited the stadium to whimper in pain…amazed that I had managed not limp…considering that damned Minotaur thing near took off one of my legs with one of his hits.

The Guar and Kedra battle proceeded immediately after mine…although the crowd was somewhat more subdued.  Their champion, Blaze was out of the running.  I didn't actually see too much of the fight, as I was rather tired, and ended up falling asleep on Dazelin a few seconds after sitting down.  I know that their fight was very close…so close that their odds of winning were equal, and we hadn't bothered to bet on them.  Kedra ended up winning by beating the shit out Guar with this huge hammer she'd won from one of her bets, coupled with a few magical spells.  Guar put up a good fight, but seeing as it was Kedra, I have to wonder if he did not fight as hard as he could have, so that he wouldn't hurt her.  

So it would be down to Kedra and myself on the last fight.  I wasn't really concerned.  The odds were in my favor, and with good reason.  Kedra's good, but only if you're willing to fight fair…I never fight fair if I can help it.  I admit it's not very noble…but hells, I'm no noble.  My style of fighting gets the job done, and gets it done fast, which is all I'm concerned about really.  I warned the others not to bet on Kedra though, especially if they wanted to keep what they were betting.  Ranearal, and Dayton hinted that I should throw the fight, but I just laughed.  I may be a dirty fighter, but I'm not downright crooked…not really.  I managed to finish my bathe and have a bit to eat before collapsing completely.  My damage was healed, but I was dead tired.  I was getting bored with the contest, anyhow.  The one real challenge was over with…and I want to go home.  I need to talk to Andar, and try to sort things out as best I can.  I know that I should let him go, but I hate to see him hurting…he's a good guy, and doesn't deserve to be hurt because of someone like me…a nobody.

I'd like to say that the last fight was a glorious one, but it was over in a matter of seconds.  Using the same tactics I'd used on all my previous opponents, I crept up behind Kedra, while invisible.  She seemed to be trying to think what spell to cast, or where to place the fireball, I'm certain.  Before she had the chance to do anything to hurt me…I'm really not all that fond of pain, after all… I laid the edges of my swords against her throat, and said,

"Give up Kedra.  I don't really want to hurt you, or fight you."  And she did.  I suppose that she didn't really want the fight after all, for she had to have know that I was only bluffing…I would never have cut her that way.  She tossed me the same short sword she'd lent me the day before.

"Keep it…for good I mean.  I won't use it, and I've certainly won enough off it by betting on you."  She laughed.  I shrugged and tucked it away.  I'd no doubt end up putting in my armory, along with a good deal of the rest of the stuff I'd won.  

Since I'd won the contest, I won the headband that Saldenon had wanted …it seemed a long time ago.  Since I had the new headband, which had magical powers similar to some things I already had, I gave away some of my older things to the rest of the party members who could use them.

Dayton ended up apologizing to the elf woman he'd fought earlier, saying that he didn't know what had come over him, and would she forgive him for his unjust actions.  She did, and that went a long way towards repairing my opinion of him.  

Guar, strangely enough, seemed to have found love…in the form of half-orc woman with Violet hair and eyes.  Guar was obviously smitten with her, and she seemed to return his affection.  I've no idea when he met her, only that she seemed a decent enough person, and would be traveling back to Toril with us…to be with Guar, I think.  Her name, of course, was Violet, and Kedra kept grinning, as though she'd planned everything herself.  We left almost immediately after the last battle.  The Mercain didn't seem too happy with us, seeing as I got the feeling they'd lost a great deal on my fight with Blaze.  Still, they returned us to the Standing Stone, just as they promised.  We set out immediately for the keep.  

A few miles from home, Dazelin turned off down another path, stating that he was returning to his house in Ashabenford.  He had a huge bag of goods with him…items he'd won from the contest betting.  He would not divulge what he won, only smugly informed us that it was more than he'd lost, and if we were interested, it would all be displayed shortly, and for sale at his store…coin only.  We waved good-bye and kept on our path.


	3. 3

I knew as soon as my keep came into view that something was wrong…badly wrong.  The gates were wide open, and the bridge was down…not an odd occurrence, since there were still a few hours of light left…but there was no movement…no sentries…no guards…no one in the towers…everything was silence.  I felt that familiar clench of dread in the pit of stomach.  It was too soon for the curse to hit again…too soon, I told myself.  But I don't think I was listening.  As we got closer, I could see that some one had stuck a large piece of parchment to the door with a dagger.  Where we had all been laughing and joking mere moments before, the party was now as silent as the witching hour.  We approached cautiously, and read the note.

"Join us in the great hall."  That was all it said.  My fingers went to the hilt of my sword…something was wrong…very wrong…  We entered the keep walls…everything was in place, as it should be…there was no sign of a fight…or of anything else for that matter.  Normally, Mr. Chitters would have come running…Nym would have come out from the stables…the soldiers would have been out drilling…there would've been a steady clanking noise from Jeblek's forge…there was nothing.  The others looked at me…their eyes questioning.  I had no answers.  We approached the great hall…we tried to be quiet.  Carefully, we tried peering in through some of the arrow slits.  It was very dim inside…it seemed that everything was closed up…the fires were out…but I heard a grunting…a clank, like an armored person shifting…a muffled voice…and caught a glimpse of someone tied to a chair.  I moved towards the double doors, and cast an invisibility spell on my self.  Guar, Kedra, Ranearal and Dayton came with, while Aiyana maintained her position at the window.  Her cat, Regal, suddenly went tearing off with silent speed, back out the gates.  To get help, I hoped.  Then, before we could move to open the doors, aloud voice called from inside.

"Please!  Come in!  Come in!"  And the doors to my hall opened.  We stepped cautiously into the room's interior...it was not so dark with the doors open.  The sight before me, was one that made my fingers clenched until the knuckles were white…my heart was beating so I could feel it in my throat…I was afraid…but not for my own life…and I was angry…so very angry it began to burn in me, like I imagine that Guar feels before a rage.

My men…my soldiers were in the great hall…all 25 of them.  Nym was there as well.  Each one of them was tied and bound in some manner to a chair, and seated around the table, as though awaiting dinner.  Most were gagged, but their eyes conveyed to me their fear and a warning.  And behind each soldier…each person, was a second person…men in armor with weapons…swords…each one with a dagger or sword, and looked ready to attack.  Captain Takklinn seemed more bound than the others.  He'd obviously given his attackers trouble.  Beneath his chair were broken ropes and chains.  He himself was chained and each chain had a strip of leather running through the links.  He was still struggling, although he looked like he'd been worked over badly.  His face was a huge bruise…he was gagged…one of his eyes was so swollen it was nearly shut…still there was defiance and rage in his eyes, and the chains clanked as he tried to break them.  He had several men around him...one was a large half-orc man with a look of intelligence in his eyes…I recognized him for the captain of the men who'd attacked the keep, that he was.  I looked over and saw Nym's face.  The boy looked as though he wanted to cry, but was resisting it.  He was terrified, and I knew he was thinking of his family and how they'd died…and no doubt how I'd failed to keep him safe.  There was a brief light in his eyes…I think it was hope…and I prayed I could answer it.  There was however, no sign of Andar, or Miri, the cook…or the maids…or Jeblek…I didn't yet want to think why they were not there.  Rossal and Isis had even been caught…each one in a tiny cage on the table.  Rossal was trying to prowl around his cage, but there wasn't enough room…Isis, who was very pregnant, and not just fat…was making tiny chirps that sounded frightened to me.  There was no sign of Mr. Chitters.  Then, there was the woman.

She was standing before my fireplace, dressed in robes.  She seemed pretty enough, but I know evil when I see it.  She turned to face us, as we entered, and to my surprise, she saw me…even through the invisibility spell.  I knew then, that like myself, she had some manner of "see invisibility" spell cast on herself. 

"Welcome," she stated with a smile.  "Please…come in, and sit down…enjoy the hospitality of your hall…as I have."  The rage flared, but I pressed it back down.  It was too soon to do anything.  No one moved.

"Sit down," she said again…specifically to me.  "You wouldn't want one of my men," she gestured to the hostage holders, "to get nervous would you?"  I recognized the threat for what it was.  I forced my knees to bend, and sat down on the edge of the seat…still tense and ready to spring back up.  Then I saw the symbol…a mark on her clothes that identified her to me…to my fury.

      The Cult of the Dragon

      I forced myself to ungrit my teeth, and infused a casualness into my tone that I did not feel.  My nerves were more like a wire pulled taunt and near to snapping.  

      "Why has the Cult of the Dragon dared to attack my keep?"  I asked.  

      "We have not attacked your keep…merely taken it, so that I might ask a favor of you."

      "Then ask, and be on your way, for I'll not grant any help to the Cult of the Dragon," I hissed.  She made a tsk-ing noise that grated on my nerves.

      "There's no need to be uncivil about this.  I realize that you're angry.  And of course, I must apologize for the incident near Aencar's Manor.  The fools should not have been hunting so close to the cities."  I forced myself to remain quiet.  Let her speak, so I could get on with the killing, I told myself.

      "But, in truth, the Cult has never meant you any harm, indeed…"

      "No harm?!"  I exclaimed.  "And this?"  I held up my arm, where a flame tattoo still showed, surrounding an area of unmarked skin where the Cult's tattoo had once been.  She shrugged.   

  "That was Shamour's idea, not mine."

"But he was one of you…and he is dead…and we killed him for daring to interfere in our lives…and you will join him for the same crime."  I said softly…beginning to feel a strange, edgy sort of calm.  

"Shamour was a fool…we have come asking for your help," the woman stated.  Guar stepped up beside me.

"We shall help you…to the afterlife," Guar growled.  Kedra echoed the noise, slamming her hammer against the floor of the hall so hard that a crack appeared in the stone.  Then the scene in the room changed, violently rippling like the air around a fire…and the illusion that had been in place vanished …replaced by reality.  The men in the room were not just standing by my soldiers…they each had a blade to the throat of each one of my men…and the woman before us…she was no woman…or at least, not anymore.  The robes she now wore were tattered and rotted, barely concealed the shriveled, old, dead flesh beneath.  Her visage was the same...hideous and fearsome, and reeking of death.  Her eyes were merely two glowing lights in her sockets.  I could see bits of bone beneath some of her skin.  Her hair was thin, wispy and gray…and I knew her for what she was: a lich.  I knew instantly what must have happened to Andar, and the others…a lich…she would not have wanted a priest around to potentially mess up her plans…Andar would've have been killed straightaway.  I glanced at the Cult soldiers…the two maids Lureene, and Shandri were pretty girls…I could guess what their fate had been. As for Jeblek and Miri…both would have been too stubborn to leave their homes…the forge and the kitchen…they would've died before doing…and that was probably what they'd done…died.  I knew it was my fault…there was no one else's it could be…no, it was probably not even my curse…I had made an enemy of the Cult of the Dragon…I had made a terrible mistake…I'd left some of my enemies alive and I never should have done so.  This was my keep…and everyone knew it.  I'd invited all of them here…let them work here and not prepared them for true danger.  And I had though to keep out drow?!  I am such a fool…and now some were dead…and looking around…more would die.  There was no way to save my men, short of agreeing to what the woman had planned…and being a Harper, I could never agree.  And Andar…oh gods…Andar…I'd killed him after all…and the last things between us were hard words… I hadn't even gotten the chance to apologize…and it was all…my…fault.

My rage was like a mad thing, screaming inside my head.  My ears were ringing…but it was like a wall of ice rose up around my heart and my thoughts…and I felt so incredibly calm, it was like the perfect glassy, mirror of a pond on a windless, still day. I released a held breath.

"Ask your favor…but know this…once I have done whatever task you wish…I shall hunt you down…even does it take my entire life time.  I will kill you…and yes, lich…I know how to kill you…we killed your dracolich, after all…this I vow."

"You'd never find it," she laughed…I knew she spoke of her phylactery.  I let her dream…I would find it if I had to destroy every item in my keep to do it. 

"First, we would ask you to join us…you would make a powerful member of our organization," she said.  I shook my head.

"I think not," I said simply.  I held back the knowledge of what I already was.  I would save that for a moment when it truly needed it.

"Pity. You will comply with our request, anyhow, or I will kill all who are here."  I waited for her to go on…. feeling calmer by the moment.  

"With the destruction of Aencar's manor, we no longer have a convenient base of operations in this area.  To that extent, we wish to use your keep.  We will stay here, in secret…you will continue on with daily life…"  I interrupted her.

"I'm afraid I cannot agree.  I will not allow the use of this keep for evil purposes…for any reason."

"Why not?" she asked…I think she was honestly perplexed.  

 "I cannot aid evil," I said…softly…rather sadly.  I would have to sacrifice my men…I wanted there to be another way…I would die if I could save them by dying.  I could not allow what they wanted, though.  There was no way I could allow it.

"You are cowards," Guar growled…I suddenly noticed that Dayton and Kedra were trembling in fear at the sight of the lich…as they'd once sided with the vampire…Guar, and Ranearal were still standing strong.  Dayton suddenly broke, and ran out the door.  There was no sign of Aiyana.  I knew that the lich probably had some manner of fear spell working…and I knew that in my current state…I felt no fear…not even spelled fear.

"You are cowards…let them go…fight us," Guar continued.

"Aye," I added.  Why not?  "Come…we will fight you all…or are you too weak to fight we few?"  It did not work.  None of the other soldiers moved, and the lich kind of chuckled.  This situation would not end that easily.  I noticed something, though…none of the soldiers with the lich were wearing the sign of the Cult…nor were the armed as other Cultists we'd found before had been armed.  It occurred to me then, that the soldiers might not even work for the Cult…that the lich expected them to die…that they might be mercenaries…

Just then, I noticed a small creature fly in through one of the arrow slits.  At first I thought I was the only one who'd noticed…but then I saw the lich's gaze turn to regard it as well.  I realized that the creature was invisible, and it only took me a moment to recognize it.  With blueish-green scaly, skin and large butterfly wings, I recognized the faerie dragon that had called us to aid his friend against the fang dragon.  But what was it doing here…why now? I wondered.  The lich stared at it, as though curious and bewitched.  The faerie dragon fluttered closer to her, and I saw a look of obvious revulsion wrinkled its tiny, reptilian, face.  Suddenly, there was a flash, and the dragon made itself visible for everyone else.  I don't think it knew that I, or the lich could see it.

"By the gods!"  Came a squeaky voice from its mouth, "you are hideous!"

I don't know who in the room was more shocked.  Everyone…from the thugs to the hostages, from the party, to the lich was staring at the creature.

"No…I mean, you are really ugly!  Ew!  And you smell…" it prattled on.  And with everyone distracted, I cast a spell…quietly and quickly, and took the decision whether to allow the Cult to stay or not out of my hands.  I sent a "message" spell…to Inialos.

"Inialos," I whispered the words he would be hearing. "The Cult of the Dragon has taken my keep…the soldiers are hostages.  Bring help…lots of it."  The spell left.  I knew that it had worked.  And now it was too late.  Whatever happened next, the Cult would never take this keep.  By calling Inialos, I had called all my allies.  Inialos knew those who were allied to the keep.  He would bring the rangers and the druids that he and Aiyana knew…he would bring the dwarves of Glen.  He would bring the riders of Mistledale…and the riders would bring the others…the troops of Lord Ilmeth and Lord Haresk, and Dazelin…they'd all come…a veritable army.  I trusted their loyalty…their sense of good, if nothing else.  An army would surround this keep within hours…a day or two at the most.  An army that knew everyway into and out of the castle, by way of the dwarves. Now it was too late for the Cult's plan to work, no matter what happened next.  Even if they killed everyone here…it was too late. 

I stared at the lich…there was nothing I could physically do to stop her…my only chance was to try to talk our way out of this.  Meanwhile, the faerie dragon was still pestering the lich…she turned to regard me with her burning eyes.  

"Call off the wyrm," she demanded of me.  I shrugged my shoulders.

"What do you want me to do…he doesn't live here."  I said.

"Well, it seems friendly towards you…call it off."  I shrugged.

"I hardly know him…he won't listen to me…but that's not really important…I'm going to make a deal with you," I said, taking a deep breath, praying this would work.

The lich seemed to be interested at the statement, and ignoring the faerie dragon, focused all of her attention on me. 

"Really…"

"It's too late for your plan to work…even if I was willing to allow it…which I'm not.  As soon as I realized who you were, I cast a spell and sent a message to a friend of mine with a very large mouth. He knows who all of my allies are…and he knows to contact them.  He knows that the Cult of the Dragon is here…and he will gather a great deal of people and bring them here.  No matter what happens, it too late for me to stop him.  He'll bring the dwarves of Glen…the druids and the rangers of Cormanthyr…the riders and the soldiers of Mistledale…Lord Ilmeth's warriors of Battledale…even the Harpers.  They'll all be coming here…an army of people.  You will not be able to hold this keep…there are folk among them who know every way in and out of this keep…ways that I guarantee you do not know of.  Now…since I know that the Cult values secrecy, I am willing to allow you to reconsider your actions. Release my men, unharmed…remove yourself from this keep immediately …and I will give you two days before I and my friends track you down…just us, and not the army that is, even now, on the way here."  I took another deep breath.  The lich seemed amused…maybe a little impressed.  I could only hope.

"It will take your allies at least several hours to get here…what is to stop me from killing all of you?"

"I can't stop you from killing my men…but I vow that if you do…no one in this room," I raised my voice so that the soldiers could hear, "will leave here alive.  If I must turn the stones of my home red with your blood, then I will do it to stop you.  If you wish to fight, I will oblige you, but only once you have released my men.  And on the rare chance that you manage to kill me…all those I have summoned will still come here…and you will be trapped."

"Will I?" she asked in that same amused tone.  

"Probably not you, no," I admitted, then turned to her soldiers…mercenaries by the look of them, and not even Cult soldiers.

"But your men will be…they will die here, all of them.  You men…you are not even members of the Cult of the Dragon.  Do you wish to die for a cause that is lost already?  For money?"

"If it's money you want," Kedra added, flinging a handful of platinum on the floor at them, "have money…we've certainly made enough while adventuring…and doing good!"  They did not move from their positions, but I saw a few exchanging glances…then I noticed one of them twitch and shiver for a moment, then stop.  When I looked at him, he winked at me, and I knew that Lyklor had joined us.  

"Think on this…why has the Cult hired you?  There can be only two reasons…one, that they know their own men are not competent to beat us…as we have slaughtered them before on more than one occasion…or is it because they know this and do not wish to waste the lives of their own men, and so have hired you to die?  And you will die if you continue this course of action!" I vowed.  They did not move from their positions, but then, I didn't really expect them to.  It was enough that I had put the seed of doubt in their minds.

"Raine," the lich said.  I shivered, hating the sound of my name on her voice.  "You truly wish to give up the power I am offering you?  A position in the Cult of the Dragon…you would do so well with us.  I know that I have chosen well with you."

"Then you best think again, creature," I stated, coldly.  "I will never join with a group who is evil…a group of deluded fanatics who dare to worship flying lizards instead of the true gods.  Power?  Why would I want that kind of power?  I have enough as it is…so much, that apparently, you saw fit to try and recruit me, and are deaf to my words."

"Your gods will not be around forever."

"No god can truly die…but I have killed dragons…more than one.  So it seems that if my gods will not be around forever, your gods will die tomorrow."  She opened her mouth again, but I cut her off in a wintry tone.

 "No, I say. I will not join you."

"A pity.  Then perhaps I shall have to tear this keep to the ground."

"That will gain you nothing…  I am giving you one last chance.  Leave now, and when we fight next, it will be on your grounds.  This is my home, and I know its secrets…you will not defeat me here."   She seemed to think about that for a moment.  Then she looked over at her captain, the half-orc.

"Bring them.  We shall leave, and you will perhaps reconsider your decision," she added to me.  The half-orc made a motion, and they began to tug loose the ropes tying the men to the chairs.

"No," I stated.  "Leave them, and leave this place."

"Bring them," the lich ordered again.  "We shall put them with the others."  I knew which others they'd spoken of, and I went colder still.

"You shall not!  I have said that your leaving here depends entirely on my men.  Leave them here, and go.  I will not let you kill any more of the people here."  But, they did not seem to listen, and the mercenaries began to drag some of the men towards the door.

"Guar!" I hissed," Do not let them leave this room!"  Guar stepped in front of the door, rising up to his full height in a menacing manner.

"Any further, and I will lead you to your graves," Guar growled, as his hands tightened on the haft of his mace.  It occurred to me, that Guar no longer carried his axe, and favored a mace now…and that his symbol of Tempus, which he had always worn, was gone…replaced by the symbol of Lathlander.  It was very strange.

The lich halted the men.

"Fine then," she pointed at a handful of the soldiers.

"They may stay, but the rest come outside.

"No," I replied, and then, made a decision.  I pointed out three of my own…Daelric, Oren, and Takklinn.  My captain, and the two sergeants.  They knew the risks of their position.  They were all good men, and their cared for their soldiers.  I felt they would accept the risk.

"Take them out with us if you must, but leave the rest here."  She paused, and then nodded.  The half-orc hauled Takklinn up, while two others dragged Oren and Daelric from their chairs.  The mercenaries and lich filed out, and the party followed as well.  There were only two mercenaries left inside, and one of them, I knew was Lyklor, for he gave me a conspiratory wink as I walked out.  He would protect the others.  

I wasn't certain what the lich meant to do next; for it did not seem that she was being quick on leaving.  I grasped an object in my belt pouch…a pouch of holding, and stood ready.  Outside, a downpour had begun.  Rain battered down on from a sky that had darkened in only a few minutes, it seemed.  Strange.  I knew it was unnatural…and suspected that Aiyana, who, as a druid, would have such control over the elements, had had a hand in the matter.  The lich suddenly spun towards me…her dead skin and ruined robes looking even more disgusting under the deluge.  

"Come…we've had no entertainment, this day.  I wish to be amused."

"Then find yourself a fool, for you'll find none here," I said the words boldly, but I did not feel it.  I was the fool…I had dared think my keep safe.  Ha! 

"Come then!  Let us have a battle!  For the sake of entertainment," the lich beckoned.  I was ready…I could give battle, if that was what she wanted…with the majority of my men safe, I felt little fear.  But before I could answer, there came another voice from the tree in the center of the tilting yard, directly behind the lich.

"I'll give you a battle!" shouted Dayton.  And from a scroll he cast, and a bolt of electricity streaked sideways…hit the lich, and arced out to catch several of the mercenaries.  The lich gave a shriek of rage…and dare I hope, agony?  Several of the mercenaries who were hit fell and did not rise again.  I acted.  I yanked the item from the belt pouch, a rusty gauntlet, and jammed it onto my hand.  I bolted to where the half-orc had Captain Takklinn, and slammed the gauntlet to the chains binding my dwarven captain, and spoke a word.  The magic in the gauntlet activated, and the chains instantly turned rusted, and fell away.  The gauntlet had been won during won of the bets I'd placed at the contest, and once every day could rust away an object.  Captain Takklinn immediately began struggling against his bonds, and I knew it would not be more than a moment or two before he broke the leather straps.  I dropped a sword onto the ground nearby, knowing he would take it up once free.  I turned and drew daggers from their hiding places, one after the other.  The first dagger flew, and sliced through the ropes holding sergeant Oren…the second freed sergeant Daelric.  Two more daggers landed at their feet, to use as weapons.  I caught a glimpse of the battle that had erupted around me.  Guar and Kedra had converged on the lich, who was holding Dayton by the throat, in midair.  Dayton was twitching and looked very unhealthy, and Guar was roaring, but slipped on the mud that the tilting yard had become, and dropped his weapon.  Aiyana was near the wall of the great hall, and lay on the ground…I feared her dead, but by what, I did not know.  Ranearal was casting spells from another corner of the field, taking out mercenaries, and trying to attack the lich.  Suddenly, the lich roared, and cast a spell.  A type of armor, made of the bones of dragon rose around her in the air.  I felt fear, but only for a moment.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ranearal flinch, then his hands began to weave in the air, as he chanted arcane words determinedly.  The spell flew towards the lich with such power; I could almost feel it, tingling in the air like the lightning.  The armor vanished when the spell hit the lich.  Suddenly, I felt something sharp pierce my side, and turned to face the half orc.  By taking my attention away for a moment, I'd foolishly given him an opening.  He'd taken it.  I turned back to him, and drew Winter's Eye, and Banshee's Wail, and with a silent cry to Tempus, for victory, and a prayer to Tymora, for luck, I turned and attacked.

I heard fireballs exploding around me, Guar roaring, Kedra shouting.  There was a strange animal noise…and I recognized it and knew that Mr. Chitters was not dead, but had escaped whatever the lich had bound him with.  Captain Takklinn's shouted orders gave Mr. Chitters targets to attack.  There was the clang of weapons, the clink of armor, and all around, the fall of rain, so loud everything seemed muffled by it.  I focused on my opponent.  The half-orc moved in manner that reminded me of Saldenon, very quick and very precise.  It seemed that for every five times I would swing at him, only one attack would connect.  Yet, he seemed far more able to hit me.  The energy of battle kept me strong, and I hardly flinched each time his weapon struck into my skin.  

I heard another fireball, and turned instinctively, to see the spell decimate a small group of the mercenaries…and then noticed that it had struck more than humans.  When the smoke cleared, there was the charred corpse of Mr. Chitters.  The weasel had been the only pet I'd ever had, and now he was dead.  I stood for a fraction of a second, staring mutely.  The half-orc, however didn't seem inclined to let me recover. With one attack, I swear I felt the edge of his axe bite into the bone of my ribs.  The pain blossomed in my chest, but it was not enough to kill me.  I would not die until I'd driven the invaders from my home.  Yet the half-orc was not unaffected by my attacks…he bled freely from many wounds, and swayed…just a bit, on his feet.  Just then, I heard a familiar sound, and barely managed to dodge as a fireball screamed towards us.  I jumped out of the way just in time, and looked up, expecting to see the corpse of the half-orc…only he still stood, only smoking a bit.  I knew he must have some protection, and that I would get no help from Saldenon.  I heard a shout from somewhere that no magic was working near the lich…I heard Ranearal, even through the rain, say something about antimagic.  The half-orc lost his focus for only a moment, as a volley of magic missiles slammed into him from somewhere behind me…it was enough.  I lunged, and the tips of both my blades sank into him.  I jerked them up, and a gout of blood spilled from the mercenary leader's mouth.  He felt back, sliding off my swords, and to the ground.  I knew he was dead, but I hacked at him again, and a second time, giving way to my fury at what had happened.  I hoped very much that the lich was being entertained.  Speaking of the lich…I looked up from my kill, and saw the lich through the wet fringe of my bangs.  She was heading towards the gate…I saw small pockets of fighting still going on, but many of the mercenaries bodies littered the tilting yard, and the stones around it. I would not let her escape, if I could help it…not when it was her fault that Mr. Chitters…and…Andar were dead.  I bolted across the yards, my boots slipping a bit in the muck.  Just as I came up on the scene, Kedra seemed to loose her balance, and when she threw her hammer, it overshot the lich.  It only took me a moment to realize that my swords would not work in the strange antimagic zone around the lich.  Thinking quickly, I pulled a vial from my potion belt and smashed it into the lich's face.  The greenish acid ate away at the dead flesh, leaving hints of bones open to the air, by the time the rain had washed it away.  However, it did not even seem to slow the lich.  Several more vials of acid, and fire struck at the lich, and around her.  I turned to see that Ranearal was pitched pots of Alchemist's fire at the lich, and that Aiyana, who was not dead after all, was throwing the vials of acid.  Then I remembered…the phylactery!  If the lich had it on her, we could find and destroy it.  I saw the staff she held in one hand, and the belt she had around her waist.  Good starts.  Quickly, I used my sword to cut through the belt, and yank it backwards.  It landed on the wet ground and I kicked it behind me.  The lich turned back to me, just as I grasped the staff and kicked at her, trying to pull it away.  The lich reached out and touched my wrist, and I felt a terrible cold in her touch that seemed to draw life from me.  I wanted to break contact with that touch…to run, but my will was stronger than my fear, and I continued to tug at the staff.  Kedra saw what I was doing, and must've thought the same thing…find the phylactery and destroy it.  I guess she thought that the staff was a good guess, for she drew her axe, and swung downward, striking the middle of the staff.  It chipped, but as it was obviously not mere wooden staff, it did not break right away. 

Just then, Ranearal's voice rose over the din of the storm.

"Her phylactery's magic!  She won't have it on her, or it would have failed in the antimagic field!  It's not the staff!" He shouted.  I heard him, and so did Kedra, for she drew back the swing she was about to make. I pulled against, and the staff slipped loose.  Unfortunately, I lost my balance and tumbled rear first into the mud and water, striking stone beneath hard enough to knock my breath from my lungs.  In the moment I was stunned, the lich managed to avoid a swing from Kedra's axe, and snatch up her severed belt. She neared the gate to the keep, and suddenly, I felt the magic of my items begin to work again as she dropped whatever field had been keep the magic dead around her.  She looked right at me, and said,

"We shall meet again, Raine."  Then with a muttered word, she vanished in a cloud of silvery motes…that seemed vaguely familiar…I pushed the thought away though, for now would not be the best time to have a fit.    

A moment later, the rain began to slow, than stopped altogether.  The clouds evaporated, and the bright sun came out again.  I managed to stumble to my feet, using the stolen staff as leverage.  I turned around to survey things.  Guar was leaning heavily against his mace…I saw in him the weariness that came upon him after a rage.  Kedra had picked up her weapon, and was making her way over towards where Takklinn stood.  The dwarven Captain looked beaten, but triumphant, and around him was a pile of bodies, two bodies high.  Aiyana and Ranearal were helping Dayton to his feet.  The bard looked poorly, but had no visible wounds, so it would be magical healing for him.  Oren and Daelric stood near their own pile of bodies.  The mercenaries were dead, almost to a man, lying in slashed, beaten, and burnt piles, around the yard.  I saw black skin, and released that Dazelin had appeared sometime over the fight.  He looked very wet, and confused, shaking his head at something.  Some of the soldiers from inside were beginning to file out of the great hall, no doubt freed by Lyklor.  I'd have to remember to play a song for the ghostly elf later.  Then I saw Mr. Chitters.  I suppose that most people have pet dogs or cats…I'd never had a pet before, and Mr. Chitters was the closest I had.  I suppose that I treated him a bit like a dog, and he'd loved to play games like fetch…but my loyal "pet" wouldn't be playing any games anymore, for he was a charred corpse…all of his fur burned away by the fireball that had killed him.

"Mr. Chitters!"  I shouted, at no one in particular.  I couldn't help it.  Was it my curse?  Why could I never have anything I could keep…no one that could stay…not even a damned dire weasel?!  In a fury, I spun to look at the mages of the party.  Kedra had been engaged with the battle against the lich…and I don't think Dazelin had been there yet.  That left Ranearal.  The elven mage tried to bluff his way out if, saying it might have been the lich.  I knew he was lying, and narrowed my eyes, feeling dangerous.  I would not attack him, I knew that…but I was so angry…at least being angry, I couldn't feel grief.

"I'll bring him back," Ranearal finally said with a sigh.  "I didn't mean to kill him."

"See that you do," I growled at the elf…I know that it seemed silly, but I hoped he would keep his promise and bring Mr. Chitters "back."  As I've said before, bringing the dead back was never something I'dv'e thought of, when I lived on the Moonshaes, but it seemed that people on the mainland thought of it with far more frequency…and actually had the means to go through with such plans.  I decided to depart from Ranearal's company just as his familiar, the weird little impish thing came flying back with a disturbing bit of human flesh in its sharp toothed maw, looking quite pleased with itself…even as Ranearal began shouting at the familiar to drop it and wash its mouth out.

I could feel the energy beginning to leave me, and forced my self to continue to stand upright, as it did.  I saw Kedra fussing over Captain Takklinn, and it drew my attention.  I trudged over to where the captain was, and, crossing my arms, stared down at him.  It took him a moment to shake off Kedra and look up at me.

"Well…_Takklinn_," I said.  "Care to explain?" I asked, in the same cold voice I'd used before.  He knew I was angry…I never called him Takklinn, without his rank in front, but I'll give him credit, he stood firm.

"They must've gotten in while we were mostly asleep.  It was night."

"And how did they get past the sentries and the guards?" I snapped.  He picked up a crossbow from the belt of the dead half-orc, and pulled the bolt out.  It had a faint greenish residue on the tip.

"They were armed with some kinda sleepin' poison.  Flat knocked everyone out, 'fore we had a chance to fight."  

"Indeed," I stated, stiffly.  I know I couldn't and shouldn't be angry at him…it wasn't his fault, but mine, after all.  

"Fine then.  Gather your men, then, and clean this up, and get rid of the trash," I ordered, waving my hand at the bodies.  Then, noticing his wounds were rather harsh, I added,

"Go talk to Guar, before he falls asleep, and have him see to your wounds.  Hopefully he's not used up all his spells, seeing as he's the only cleric we've left."

"What do ye mean?"  Takklinn asked, gruffly.  I turned away from him.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it?  The lich didn't want any clerics around to cause trouble, so she killed…Andar.  She meant to kill the other men…that's what she meant when she said she was going to take them to where the others were."

"Um…the priest ain't dead…him and the others are just locked up in the great hall…upstairs.  Don' know why. Guess she din' want them downstairs."  I felt a moment of relief…Andar wasn't dead, then…still, I was running out of energy…I couldn't deal with much more at the moment.

"Well, then, why don't you go release them, and have them lend a hand," I muttered.  I started to walk away, then turned back, and added,

"Oh, and Captain?  Make sure the gate goes up tonight, and get some rest.  I want every soldier up at the crack of dawn, drilling…it's obvious that none of you have been trained well enough yet, and we'll have work to do repairing that."  Captain Takklinn stood up stiffly at the insult, but said nothing.  

Just then, I heard a noise from within the forge.  I made my way over, to find Jeblek had been chained up in the forge, the instruments he could've used to escape left tauntingly just beyond his reach.  I let him loose, and he began to rant and fire up the forge the very moment that the gag was off.  I left him to his business, ignoring his shouts.  I threw down the bloody staff, and managed to make my way to my tower.  I slammed the door, and bolted it behind me.   I got to the table and pulled out a chair, and managed to sit in it just before me knees gave out.  There was silence in the tower, and so nothing to distract me from my thoughts.

Failure.  It was worse than just failing, though.  I had been overconfident …people died…more might have died, all because I was a little fool.  Build a keep to hold back the drow?!  Ha!  What a joke.  I could not even keep the damned Cult of the Dragon, and a few mercenaries out of the keep.  How was I supposed to keep out the drow, who by Dazelin's words, were known to be some of the most ruthless, cunning, sneaky people on all of Toril? I tried to give hope to people, and ended up making a botch of everything.  All I would end up doing is giving the next evil group to find their way in here a foot hold in the dales that they would not have previously had!  

I felt my self-anger rise up…and the need to cause damage return.  In a rage, I stripped off my armor and my weapons and magic items, and one by one hurled them at the walls.  Each item seemed to make a gratifying noise as it hit the wall, then the floor.  I shouted and cursed, as the wet, muddy items flew from me.   Finally, there was nothing left to throw…the burst of energy left me as fast as it had come.  I sank back down into the chair, and let my head fall, buried my face in my forearms.  I felt cold and wet and dirty, but could not summon up the strength to move…or even think to get up and light a fire.  I sat there for a bit, my mind curiously blank, when I heard the door open.  I didn't even bother to stir when I heard soft footsteps entering the tower, which had been locked only moments before.  If there had been a knock, I hadn't heard it.

"Go'way," I mumbled as the steps drew closer.  

"Raine," I heard a familiar elven voice.  Dazelin…great...what in the 9 hells did he want?

"Go away" I stated again.  I wasn't really in a mood to talk.  He stood still…but it certainly didn't sound like he was leaving.

"Raine…by the sword it's cold in here…you should get those wounds tended to," he stated in a tone that wasn't quite as sarcastic or flippant as usual.

"Go to the 9 hells," I muttered, not really meaning it.  I waited for a witty retort, but it did not come.  He muttered something under his breath, and I heard a whoosh, then the crackle of a fire in the fireplace from behind me.

"Don't want a fire…put it out," I demanded.  I didn't deserve to have a damned fire, I thought, sinking deeper into my despair.  He didn't put the fire out. Damned elf… he never bloody listens.

"Raine…" he began, then stopped.

He moved closer…I could sense, more than see him standing next to my chair.  I felt his hand, too warm, on my shoulder.  I would've shaken it off, but couldn't seem to work up the will for such an effort.

"Raine, you did well…everyone is all right," he stated.  I almost laughed.  Comfort?  From Dazelin Coloara?  But it occurred to me then, that as much as he seemed disdainful of the idea of having them, Dazelin had few enough friends that I could tell…maybe he knew that I thought of myself as his friend …dangerous as that position can be to those who chose to consort with me…and maybe…maybe he was trying to help someone he thought of as a friend as well.  I don't know.  Maybe I'm just imagining things…or hoping for too much.  

"Not well enough…you were right…I am a fool to think what I was doing would make a difference."  I could feel him shift, though he did not move his hand…and it was a bit comforting…but not enough.

"I never said you were a fool, Raine…and, well…you do make a difference."  I laughed…but it sounded hollow, and forced…even to me.

"Never mind," I managed to lift my head up a bit…I didn't really want anyone to see me like this…not even Dazelin.

"Look…I'm okay, alright?  I just want some time to think, okay?  I'm sorry you got dragged out here…I'm sure you've got stuff to do in Ashabenford."

"I think you should have someone take care of those wounds," he stated, grateful, I think to change the subject away from anything emotional… Dazelin doesn't handle his emotions overly well, I've noticed.

"I'm fine!  They're just scratches!  I've had worse…I'll wash up, and I'll be fine."  I never met his face, but I got the feeling that he was frowning.  He sighed once, and left, as I'd bidden earlier.  I dropped my head again, beginning to feel a bit tired, and colder still.

There was a steady dripping noise in the room…I glanced at the floor to see that there was a blood of crimson spreading underneath my chair.  I suppose that I should've gone to have Guar of someone patch me up, but really, I was too tired to even consider moving at the moment.  I think I might've fallen asleep for a minute, for when I woke up again, I was lying on the table, shirtless.  I felt a pair of hot hands on a rather painful wound on my chest, and heard someone chanting…a familiar prayer and a familiar voice.  I forced my eyes to open and saw Andar standing there.  His eyes were closed and he seemed to be completely focused.  There was a smear of blood near one of his eyes…he didn't look hurt at all, though.  The chant finished, and I felt the healing magic sealing up the wound, until it was little more than a new scar, which sort of itched.  I felt a great deal better…at least physically better.  I pushed his hands off, and sat up.  The scrap of my shirt was on the chair where I'd been sitting.  I grabbed it, and felt oddly compelled to cover myself.  I did so, wondering why…after all, it wasn't like had anything that Andar had not seen and explored in great detail anyhow.   I looked up at him, and caught his eyes once, then looked down again.  He seemed upset…and maybe a bit worried…but I couldn't tell if he was still angry.

"Why didn't you have those wounds looked at immediately?" he demanded.  I shrugged.  It was no the answer he'd wanted.  He grabbed my shoulders and gave them a shake.

"Damn it Raine…I thought…" He didn't finish telling me what he'd thought.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, waspishly.  "It didn't seem important at the time."  I felt his hands tighten painfully on my shoulders, then he released me.  I could practically feel the anger radiating from him now.  I couldn't look up at him…I couldn't let him see how much I had missed him and how much I wanted him to hold me.  He stood there for a moment, silently.  Then he sighed.

"Look at you…you're all dirty and bloody…" and before I could stop him, he grabbed me up, as though I weighed very little…which I don't, and carried me up the stairs.  He set me down on a chair, and I heard him use two spells…one to fill the tub with water, and one to heat the water.  He returned a moment later, and methodically stripped off my ruined clothes. There was nothing sexual about it.  I saw the remains of my clothes hit the floor, and I almost laughed.  For all the things I'd done recently, I never bothered to buy any new clothing…I was down to just one outfit left…brought with me from the Moonshaes…bought back before Gull had died, and my magic cloaks…that was it.  He picked me up again, and lowered me into the water.  The water was very hot…but not so hot as to burn.  Then, he reached for my braid, and started to work loose the tie at the end.  

"No!"  I nearly yelled at him, yanking the braid out of his hands, waking up from the half-sleeping state I was in.  He looked surprised, and took a step back.

"I'm just trying to help," he said, sounding hurt.  I held the end of my braid tight.

"Please don't touch my hair," was all I said.  He sighed again.  

"Why can't you trust me?" he muttered.  

"I do…it's not that…it's you who shouldn't trust me," I replied, quietly.  I could explain the significance my hair held for me…I didn't want him to laugh.

"Shut up, Raine," he snapped, angry again.  

"Look, I can wash myself," I replied to his anger.  He clenched his hands at his sides.

"Fine…I've got other people to take care of, then.  I'll be back later, and we'll talk then."  He stormed out of the room, and I heard his footsteps going quickly down the stairs.  

"Don't bother!"  I shouted, angry again.  I don't think he heard me, as the door slammed shut below.  I sighed, and slammed my fist against the stonewall.  Damn it. I merely gave myself another bruise.  Since I was rather awake again, I cleaned up, angrily scrubbing my skin.  I yanked my hair out the braid and washed the mass.  By the time I was done, the water was nearly as red as my hair.  Feeling reckless, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long time...something that would soothe my nerves, and make everything seem better, even if it wasn't.  I dug out my flasks…Moonshae moonshine, a bit of whiskey, and some Dragon's Breath…I decided to have a few drinks.

_ So, I had a bit to drink and I got to thinking some stuff.  Its not fair that I alaways have to be  alone.  I mean I love Andar…I really do.  Its not fair that I cant love someone.  An its not fair that Gull had to die.  Espcially since I need him.  I figured it out…Gull taught me how to be  sneaky an how to catch other people who are be sneaky so if I get Gull back he can teach the soldiers how to catch sneaky people.  After all Gull is much sneakier than any dum old drow elf.  Gulls the best an I miss him.  All the other outlanders here bring people back anyhow.  Hells someone brought me back an I was dead two whole years.  Why cant I bring Gull back?  I need him….sides if the curse wont let him come back that's one thing but why cant I try? I lose everything I love an I want to have Gull back.  An I want to keep Andar.  Why cant I keep him?  Just for a little while anyhow. ..I can always leave him and everyone before the 6 years are up…or maybe I can even break the curse by then.  Andar came back up here like he said he would.  I was feelin a lot better by then…only had a little drink of everything by then…maybe a little more than a little…I think he wanted to talk but I was tired of talking today.  I just wanted to kiss him a lot and have sex with him and I wanted him to touch me an hold me.  He kep trying to stop cause he wanted to talk but I kep kissing him an he gave up.  I love making love with Andar…he's so good at it an he doesnt get tired rite away.  I dont know why he kept trying to pull away at the end, cause he takes cassul…its Nialos who doesnt an he probabally should cause I don think he wants to have haf-drows with me an I don wan to have haf-drows either…I want haf-Andars with Andar cause I love Andar cause hes almost perfect and I told andar that I love him.  When I told him I love him Andar stopped fighting to pull away…I wouldn't let him anyhow sinceI was on top.  But enough about Andar…even though I could go on an on an on about Andar cause I really like, but I don't know why cause he only get hurt an hes too nosy.  So I think Ill just have another sip an ill go an get apple.  I got to be quiet cause Andars asleep.  Hes so cute when hes asleep… and hes naked…he has really nice shoulders…and soft hair…but I cant wake him up again…I don know why he seemed so upset cause I was drinkin.  Its not like its bad…everyone drinks.  Besides hes probably tired…especially after three times…heeheehee.  So Ill just go downstairs an have Nim put apples saddle on…and ill ride down to the church…oh an ill bring a donation cause the church alaways wants donations an ill tell them to bring back Gull cause I need him and he shouldntve died.  Just one more drink ok?_

So, I woke up the next morning with the most gods-awful hangover.  I swear, I keep forgetting why I don't drink like that anymore.  So when I woke up, all I knew was that the wrath of…somebody was upon me, I couldn't remember a whole lot aside from a few weird images from the night before, and Gull was standing over me, wearing the robes of a cleric of Chauntea, demanding to know what the hells was going on, in his usually voice which grated on my ears and caused my head to feel as though some devious little imp was smashing my skull apart from the inside.  Gull, of course, recognized that I was suffering the after affects of being very drunk, even as I was whimpering and trying to hide my face, as the blasted, evil, insidious sunlight was sending little daggers of fire into my head through my eyes. I heard Gull ask the priests where I lived, and they gave him directions to the keep, and tell him that my horse was outside.  Gull muttered something incredulous about me owning a horse.  I would've said something nasty to him, but I couldn't quite manage to work up the willpower to overcome the pain.  

Now Gull had never had much sympathy for me when I'd done something overly, and blatantly stupid…like getting completely wasted, so he dragged me up, and pulled me outside.  I'd just barely manage to get my hood up as the full force of the disgustingly bright, clear, sunny day descended upon us.  Gull found Apple quickly enough, and mounted up.  A moment later, he pulled me up behind him and told me to hold on unless I wanted to fall off.  I didn't want to fall, so I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on like a two-hour old corpse.  

We'd been riding for hours, Gull chattering away at me…mostly asking annoying questions that had no bearing on anything, just to make me suffer more…damned bloody sadist.  And I had wanted him back?  What had possessed me?  Okay...so I did want him back…and I think I was glad to see him again, even if I felt like there was a huge hole in my head that was growing larger with each gallop Apple took.  About halfway back to the keep, another rider passed us.  I managed to get a glimpse, and saw that it was Aiyana.  She was headed in the other direction, and gave a little wave as she passed, but did not stop.  I was glad for it, seeing as I did not really want to talk.

We made it back to the keep unharmed, and when Gull rode in, I swear, the noise and chaos that descended on us nearly killed me right then and there.  Ah well, I suppose that indulgence has to be paid for, but must the price be so bloody, damned steep?

Captain Takklinn, as I had ordered, was out drilling every man who was not currently on duty.  The courtyard, tilting yard, and entryway had all been cleaned of blood and bodies, and all of the plunder from the corpses had been safely stored away in the armory, to be examined later.  Most of the party seemed to be about.  Guar was speaking with his little girlfriend, Violet…the two mentioning something about being bathing partners.  Kedra seemed to be pestering Captain Takklinn…and both Kedra and Takklinn were blushing something fierce.  Ranearal and Dayton were seated at the bench beneath the tree, commiserating about something, and…Andar…was speaking to Isis, Kedra's pseudo-dragon…I think Isis was concerned about laying her eggs soon, and was trying to get the opinion of a cleric…unfortunately, I don't think Andar had any idea about laying eggs, or pseudo-dragons.  They all seemed to look up as we rode in, seeing as I could practically feel their eyes on me.  They approached us, even as Nym ran up and took Apple's lead and took him off to the stables.  Still whimpering, I clung to Gull, who seemed far too amused at my misery for his own good.  Andar gave Gull a suspicious look, which Gull raised an eyebrow at.  Gull, curse him, promptly informed everyone that I was hung over.  Ranearal, however, an alchemist of the first water, bless his elven heart, pulled out some foul concoction from his belt pouch and had me drink it down.  Miraculously, the hangover dissipated in a moment.  I could move again with agony…the sun no longer seemed a deadly foe!  He then informed me that he'd gone down to the Abbey of the Sword and had Mr. Chitters raised last night.  In delight, forgetting for a moment that Gull was with me, I whistled for my "pet."  Mr. Chitters, looking as well as ever, came bounding out of his house near the kitchen, and practically knocked me over in his enthusiasm to greet me.  When I managed to get up again, I grabbed Ranearal up and gave him a hug, I was just so happy to see Mr. Chitters, and so incredibly overjoyed that the pain was gone.  I think Ranearal was rather shocked.  When I released him, he brushed his robes and made a "humph" noise.  Then things began to get weird.  Ranearal and Dayton both began to ask me to lend them some money…I didn't manage to get an answer out, when Kedra promptly said she'd give them whatever money they needed.  Gull turned to ask me a question, and then Kedra started acting weird.  She kept saying,

"Oh shit, he's coming!  Quick!  I've got to hide!  Takklinn hide me!  No wait…I can't hide!  He'll know where I am…he always knows…damn it…he's going to drive me mad…miserable…I've got to hide!"  And more words to the effect.  In the end Kedra didn't bother to hide…and a few minutes later, the sound of a gruff dwarven voice echoed throughout the yards.  

"Where are ye, girl?!"  I recognized it, vaguely.  It was Kedra's twin...no doubt come to bother Kedra…and just as she seemed to be finally getting somewhere with Takklinn.  He started to say something else…insulting I've no doubt, but I didn't hear it.  I turned to look at him, when I saw something else… something very, very familiar…something that reminded me of my dream…of a mirror.  I couldn't hear anything for a brief moment.  My eyes widened, but I felt my vision turn black as a bolt of pain to put the hangover to shame shot through my head…starting at my temple and the base of my skull and connecting in the middle, as usual.  The world around me vanished in the white, blaze of ultimate agony…and the sound of my scream…

I began to remember…it came back in a rush of images and emotions.  I remembered everything.  

My name is Tressa Harpstar…my parents are Kendal and Dalenia Harpstar.  I have a twin…a brother who looks just like me…with the same blaze- of-white, and crimson red hair…and the same blue eyes.  His name is Tristain. My father is human, a great, tall man, with crimson hair, and the best smile ever.  He played music…he was a bard…the best bard ever.  He played the harp, like me…his symbol was of the harp.  Everyone liked him.  My mother was a priestess…a cleric of the elven god Labelas Enoreth.  She was a moon elf…she had the most beautiful, silky black hair…long as her waist.  She always smelled of flowers…her eyes were blue with gold…just like mine.  And her voice…it was the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard.  She liked to sing...but only for us…only at home, with Daddy.  We lived in Archendale, in the city of Archenbridge, in a pretty house, with a big garden.  There was a bedroom that Tristain and I slept in…we each had our own bed…and lots of toys.  Our bedroom was always a mess, but Mommy just said that being messy was a sure sign of creativity.  But we would clean it up for her if she asked…she hardly ever did.  

We were only children, Tristain and I.  Daddy doted on us…we were his "babies." He said we would only have the best of everything…he always brought us home new toys and games.  He sang special songs, just for us, and would tell us stories before we went to bed every night. Tristain and I were "mischievous" and Mommy was the only one who could "control" us…meaning that we rarely behaved for anyone else.  She liked to tell us stories too, but Daddy's stories always had more adventure and sword fights in them…but I liked Mommy's stories just as much.  

Everyone said I had my mother's voice.  Tristain and I had a fairly easy childhood in Archenbridge.  We weren't the most popular kids, but we weren't the least either.  Sometimes the other kids would tease us about being half-elves.  I would always say, "You're just jealous you're not a half-elf."  It always made us laugh when the other kids would run home, yelling, "Mom! I wanna be a half-elf," since Tristain and I always said how neat and special it was to be half- human and half-elf.  Sometimes, Tristain would get teased about his hair, since he always kept it as long as mine…they would say he was a girl…he always answered something like, "Too bad that some kids have awful haircuts, and some of us look good without even trying."  That usually elicited a, "Mom! I hate my hair!" bout of yelling from the target. The white in our hair was a result of a game Tristain and I played one day.  Mommy had always warned us not to go into her potion cabinet…but one day, while Mommy was in town, and Daddy was having a nap, Tristain and I decided to have a "tea-party."  The only problem was that we had no tea…so we took some of Mommy potions and mixed them together until they looked brown…then drank the concoctions.  When Mommy got home, she and Daddy were mad at us…they said that we were lucky that nothing worse had happened.  She didn't punish us, though, just showed us our reflections in a mirror…we thought the white was "neat."  Mommy was less than amused, but she started locking up the cabinet after that day…and Daddy didn't take naps when he was watching us, any more. 

 Tristain was my best friend in the whole world…and as long as I had him, I didn't need any one else, nor did he.  We spoke to each other in our own language, and rarely argued.  We were two of a kind, but still very different…I loved him more than any one else in the whole world, and he loved me.  We were never like brothers and sisters who fight, and hate each other…not me and Tristain…best friends forever.

Things began to change a month after Tristain and I turned six, though.  It had been a great birthday…we had had a party in the garden…and Daddy had bought us ponies for our birthday.  Tristain really liked his pony, Thunder, but I was a little afraid of my pony, Lightning. And we had each gotten a special necklace…a silver pendant, with the symbol of a harp on one side, and a sun on the other.  Mommy said that they were magic, and would keep us safe. 

It was dark, when a strange man came to our house, and knocked on the door.  Tristain and I were supposed to be in bed, but we were awake, talking in elven…we always spoke elven at home.  So, when we heard the knocking we sneaked out of our room, and peered over the second story railing to see who was at the door.  It was a man whose dark robes seemed to cover his face.  He looked kind of scary.  Daddy led the man into the sitting room.  We could hear Daddy talking with the man, I remembering every word I heard.

"…wouldn't want your family to come to harm, now would you, Master Harpstar?  With your newfound fame and fortune attracting the wrong people and all that," the man said.

"What exactly are you saying, Mister?"  Daddy asked.

"Frezalon.  Velsing Frezalon,"

"Well, Mr. Frezalon, what are you trying to say?'

"That with this fame, you will need…protection from undesirable and such.  You know…the kind of people that would steal your children away in the night and then demand ransom from you.  Now, the people I represent are offering protection for you, your beautiful wife, and darling children," the robed man explained.

"Who, exactly, do you work for, Mister Frezalon?"  Daddy asked.

"I represent a simple consortium of the Lord of Zhentil Keep, who wishes to know information on the Dales, here."  The robed man stated in a honey-coated voice.

"I will not be a Zhentarim spy in the city I grew up in, or any where else…and there is no way that you or any other Zhent will lay a finger on my family!"  Daddy shouted, sounding very angry.  I'd never heard him use that tone of voice…not ever.  The man sighed.

"Very well, Master Harpstar.  Have it your way.  Should you change your mind I can…"That was as far as Frezalon got before a loud "thwack" resounded from the sitting room.

"Fine Kendal.  You will regret this decision, now and forever!" Frezalon spat, his voice now as full of spite as it had been of honey, a moment ago.

Frezalon came out of the sitting room, and looked up at me.  His eyes seemed to bore into me for what seemed like an eternity…but in reality, was little more than a second, before he moved for the front door and left.  Tristain and I immediately ducked back into our room, and pretended to be asleep when Daddy came in to check on us a moment or two later.

For 2 months after that, Daddy was on edge.  Every noise, every creak, every knock at the door made him jump, and reach for his longsword.  Daddy's fear was validated, when, on a moonless night, Frezalon returned.  

"I wish to remake my previous offer to you, Master Harpstar," he said, standing outside the front door.  Daddy wouldn't let him in.  

"No," Daddy said, flat out, his voice unhappy.  

"Perhaps you would like to listen to my new offer?  This time I'm sure we can reach a beneficial agreement."  With that, he snapped his fingers, and shimmering out of nothingness, came 7 or 8 armed, masked men.  Daddy drew his sword, and Mommy pulled Tristain and I close to her.

"Now then," Frezalon said.  "Let me rephrase the offer; we will protect your family and you will gather and pass on information for the Zhentarim.  Should you decline, these talented young assassins here," he gestured at the masked men which were in the room, all around us, "will gut your children, and your wife with their poisoned swords."

Daddy's face showed nothing of the kindness that I knew so well on his face at that moment…it was replaced by a new, unfamiliar emotion.  Mommy began to whisper a prayer to Labelas, her god…but before she could finish it, one of the assassins ran his sword blade through her chest.  Mommy screamed this horrible scream…it made my ears hurt.  Tristain and I began to cry when we saw all the blood that started to come out.   Daddy suddenly moved, and in a blur of action, he'd grabbed his harp and begun playing a violent song…one that I'd never heard before.  The masked men fell to their knees, dropping the swords…their ears were bleeding and they were holding their heads in pain.  It made my ears hurt, too.

Suddenly, Frezalon reached for me, and though I struggled and kicked and hit at him, he managed to grab hold of me, and began to chant.  Motes of silver light began to dance around us, even as I screamed and fought.  I heard Mommy praying to Labelas to save me, even though the blood on her lips looked like red paint.  Tristain jumped for me, tried to save me, but Frezalon slapped him away.  Then the silver lights took us away, and I wasn't at my house anymore.  There was a thunderous crash overhead, and we landed in a small fisherman's boat, falling from a stormy sky.

Frezalon looked at the astounded fisherman, and ordered,

"Out or die!"  The fisherman leapt into the sea, rather than face the wrath of an obvious wizard.  Frezalon looked around at the storm for a moment.  I was crying fiercely, calling for Mommy and Daddy to help me.  

"Well, now is as good a time as any," the bad man said.  He looked down at me, and slapped across the face…hard.  

"Quit crying!" he shouted at me…I was so shocked, that I did.

"Now then, little girl, it's time to forget about your family, and your life before now.  I shall be all that matters now, and…" he never finished the statement, for the very next moment, a huge bolt of lightning stuck the boat, and destroyed it.  The blast sent me flying in one direction, and Frezalon in another.  I grabbed hold of the necklace Mommy had given me, praying it would keep me safe, like she had said. All I could hear at that moment was Frezalon telling me not to cry, telling me to forget, then the back of my head stuck something sharp and everything went dark…and then there was Lady Emilia's face…   

I opened my eyes as the pain faded away in my head.  I had noticed a few things right away…things that matched my dream.  The voice telling me to forget, the reason I couldn't "remember" how to cry…the "mirror" image in the water...the hand that slaps the image away every time I tried to touch it…they were all images, and words that occurred on that last night…the night when I was kidnapped by a Zhentarim.  He'd told me not to cry, to forget…he'd slapped my brother, my mirror, Tristain.  Many of the things that had caused my screaming over the years suddenly became clear…the smell of flowers reminded me of my mother…the boats…the teleport spell that the vampire had used…all so very familiar.  I felt momentary anger...how much had I lost all these years by subconsciously obeying the last command of my kidnapper?  And then another thought occurred to me…my mother.  Was she dead?  The wound she'd taken that night was ghastly…it certainly would've killed most people…had I gained the memory of parents, only to learn that I'd lost them again?  

Then I looked at the people around me.  Everyone was taking their hands from their ears, looking at me warily.  Gull had his arms around me, as though expecting that I was going to fall...seeing as I usually did.  There were shards of glass near the walls of each part of the keep…once again I'd shattered glass with my voice…now if only I could figure how to do that on command!  The first words out of my mouth were rather surprising.

"I can't believe my name is really Tressa," I murmured.  Kedra, loving friend that she is, replied,

"Ew…Tressa?"

"It's not that bad," I defended…for the name, with the return of memories as fresh as though they'd just happened, was as familiar to me as Raine was at that moment.  Gull and the others were all staring at me expectantly, but no one more so than the one who sparked the return of what I'd lost.  He'd walked in with Kedra's brother, and the words Kedra's brother had been saying suddenly came clear to me…he had mentioned something about meeting someone who looked just like Kedra's "bitchy friend…" meaning me not doubt.  And there he was, standing hardly more than an arms length from me, staring at me as though I was a ghost.  He looked very much like me; only he was taller, and broader in the shoulders.  His hair was the same shades and length as mine, braided in the same fashion.  He had tattoos…all over his body…and though each tattoo was different from my own, each tattoo was also similar…and in the same places that I had a tattoo.  Where I had a spiral of intertwined lines up my right arm, so he had a matching spiral of blue flames up his arm.  His eyes were the same blue and gold that my own were, and I could just barely see the tips of pointed ears peaking through his hair.  His face…was different than I remembered…but the same as the face from my dreams.  And I remembered his words…the words he'd spoken in my dreams my whole life, even though I could never hear them.  "Where are you?" He'd asked...over and over again.  So my brother had…at least in his dreams, been searching for me for all this time… here before me was the person who had been my best friend in the entire world… my partner in mischief…my brother…my twin…Tristain.  I couldn't think of anything to say, but I felt a happiness…a joy, such as I've rarely felt before rising in me.  I've said many times before that I did not care to remember my past…that remembering would be more trouble than it was worth…but now that I had them back…I could scarcely believe I had gone so long without having them…could not believe I'd forgotten at all…and I knew that I would do almost anything to keep from losing those precious memories a second time.  I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so I held out my hand to him, feeling a bit awkward…for thought this was my brother, he was not the Tristain I had known…not anymore.  This Tristain was a stranger to me…but I vowed we would not remain strangers for long.

"Hello, Tristain…I'm…Raine."  He seemed confused as well, but took my hand in his.  I could feel his fingers trembling.

"Would someone care to explain what is going on?" Gull demanded, raspily.  Andar and Kedra nodded in agreement, while most of the others seemed to be staring in amazement.  I did notice that Aiyana took one look at what was going on, then ran off…why I do not know, nor at the moment, did I care.  All that mattered was Tristain...and my memories, and all the questions that were floating through my head that I wanted…needed answers to…and of course, I thought of the curse…I did not know what to think now…was there a curse after all?  It had not taken my twin…and who was more important to me than him?  And if my parents were alive?  What then?  Was Jael and Lady Emilia's death mere coincidence…was Gull's an accident?  And if not, then why had I been able to bring Gull back…and then, thinking of Gull, I turned to him, as I finally realized what I had done.  I had actually had Gull brought back from the dead.  He stood, living and breathing again before me…and I was stuck by the magnitude of my deed.  Well…let it not be said that I don't do strange things when I'm very drunk, and weak from blood loss, then, right?  

I felt dizzy with all the revelations, and questions and emotions running through me all at once…and the fact that I hadn't eaten a thing in over two days wasn't helping either.  I decided that the entire keep didn't need to know my business, however, and thought it wise to adjourn to a more private location.

'We must talk…come…we'll go to the tower...it's quiet in there."  The others agreed.  Captain Takklinn promptly shouted at everyone to get back to their jobs.  Before I headed off with the others, he mentioned that the dwarves of Glen had showed up shortly after I went into my tower, but left when they realized that the fight was over.  Apparently, Inialos had alerted them to the danger, and as they were close they'd headed over immediately.  I thanked him for the information, and told him I would head over to where they had just begun construction on the elven tower and thank them for their aid. 

Andar, Gull, Tristain, and Kedra were the only ones who followed me into the tower.  Everyone else had gone back to their business…and Guar and Violet had "disappeared."  I wished Guar luck at his attempted conquest.  

Once inside, I realized that Lureene and Shandri had done their work while I was gone.  The tower floor was cleaned once again...with no trace of the mud and the pool of blood that I'd left there the night before.  My weapons and magical items were all cleaned and neatly stacked on a table.  I led everyone up to the second floor…my bedroom, which was, in my opinion, the most comfortable room.  They all had a seat at the wooden table, and I, needed to keep myself a bit separate from them all for a while, while I attempted to sort things out, had a seat on the cushions near the stained glass window…the only window I'd not broken with my scream, for it had been magically enchanted with a protection spell.  I took a deep breath, and did not look at them as I began.

I told them everything…starting with my very first memory growing up in Archendale, to the night that Frezalon stole me away…from waking up under Emilia's care, of having to relearn everything that had once been so easy to me, to the destruction of the church and village at the hands of the Nethlander pirates.  I glanced over at the others a few times, for they had all been silent during the tale…I spoke like a person telling a story, and not their own past.  Their faces showed that they were listening carefully to every word I said, for no one there knew the whole story…not even Gull.  I finally saw expression cross their faces when I spoke of burying the dead…all those who remained, by myself.  Tristain's face reflected horror…Kedra merely shook her head, and Andar looked upset as well…I don't remember if I'd ever told him that before.  Gull's face, as it had always been, was devoid of expression.  I continued on, not wanting to hear any words of sympathy…I had reconciled myself to that day a long time ago.

So, I continued on, telling them of my search for work, and subsequent failure…of how I became a thief, and how Gull had found me and taken me to hand.  At that point Tristain's focus seemed to switch to Gull for a moment, and I knew that he was wondering what kind of man Gull truly was, that he would train a child to be a thief.  I said nothing…I knew Gull's measure…for although we had rarely spoken of our pasts to one another, I knew that Gull was a good person, and I would always trust his, even if he annoyed me to no end, on occasion.

Then I told them about the rape.  I found that it was harder for me to speak of than to write, even after all this time.  I still felt foolish, and stupid for letting it happen…especially now, when I am fully capable of protecting myself from a similar situation.  I watched them as I told them…I managed to sound casual about the whole thing, although it was a hard won battle to do so.  I forced myself to see the pity that appeared in Kedra and Tristain…saw the rage that caused Andar's hands to grip reflexively on the arms of his chair….and what he had to feel anger for?  It had not happened to him, nor had it happened in a place or time that he could have done anything about it.  Gull just looked away…we never spoke of that night after it had happened…and I liked it better that way.  I would not have spoken of it now, but for the fact that I wanted Tristain and the others to know the entire truth…the entire tale.  If they wanted to judge who and what I am now, they had to know the things that had brought me to this point.  

Now, I managed to keep my calm and my temper the whole time, up until he next part of the story…I told them about how I began to change, a year later…how I'd gotten over my fear, and began to take lovers…lots of them…so many that I could hardly remember them all anymore.  And the looks I saw appear angered me to the point that I stopped my story to address them.  I saw disapproval overall…and in Andar an angry, grudging acceptance.  In Gull it was not a new thing, but how dare the others disapprove?!  I could hardly help myself as I began to snap at them.

"Don't you dare give me that look," I hissed at my brother.  "You're no virgin!  Tell me how many women you have in your bed, brother?"  I demanded.  He blushed…fair skin like ours has a tendency to redden easily.

"I will not," he replied. "Besides…its different with men…"

"Oh yes," I sneered; this conversation very familiar, for I'd had it enough times with Gull before. "With men, sleeping with a lot of women is called being experienced…but if a woman does the same, she's a slut…isn't that right?"  I glared at him, then turned the look on Andar and Gull…the latter looked utterly unimpressed, while the former would not meet my gaze.

"And what about you Andar?  You were no virgin when we had sex the first time, were you?  How many came before me?  The truth is that I don't really care…I benefited from that experience…and think on this…you would not enjoy it as much as you do if I was some timid little virgin who shrinks away from your touch.  Or maybe you would have rather I stayed the way I was after the Northmen raped me?"  I looked back at Tristain again.  

"Would you have preferred it that way…I suppose it would make you both feel better if I was some cowering thing who feared a man's touch, and hated all of you for what was done?  That, I suppose, would be preferable to my being a slut," I added sweetly.

"Tressa…" Tristain began, even as Andar said,

"Raine, that's not…" but neither of them got to finish, for Gull interrupted them both.

"That's enough Raine…no one is comfortable with this conversation."  I couldn't resist getting in another few jabs though…after all, I may listen to Gull, but that doesn't mean I agree with him, or obey him.  I turned first to Tristain.

"Look you, I don't need a brother who is intolerant of who I am.  If you can't accept that…if you are going to prove yourself as "accepting" as Kedra's pig of a twin, than go back home and forget you found me."

"And you," I moved on to Andar. "I don't need a lover who is intolerant, either.  You are not the first man I've slept with…you're not even the best.  And I've driven away men more determined than you.  If Dazelin and Inialos," his face darkened perceptively when I said their names…it nearly killed me to continue, but as much as I think I'm beginning to love Andar, I won't stand for his censure of who I am.  "Can accept that I slept with the other, even when Inialos is a white elf and Daz is dark one, then you'd better accept it too, or you might as well give up now."  Andar was angry…I could feel it coming off him…it hurt me to say mean things to him…but he had to understand me, or things would never work between us.  Finally, I turned to Gull…Kedra hadn't said anything…and I knew that she was still a virgin, so I saw no reason to yell at her…Gull glared right back at me, daring me to say something.

"As for you…we've already had this conversation, and I honestly don't care how much you disapprove.  I'm not going to change, just because a bunch of prudes, and narrow minded gits will think I'm a slut because I like being with men."

"Are you done with your little tirade?" Gull asked, in his patronizing tone of voice…I noticed that the others winced a bit every time Gull said more than a few words…his voice is bad, but not that bad, I thought.  I believe I made some rude gesture to Gull, and turned back to the window.  I waited a few moments before I began again…calming myself down again.  I can't stand double standards.  I say that if a man can do something, that a woman should be able to the same thing and not be thought ill of because of it.  I know that it'll never happen, but by the gods, I would try my damnnest to keep those around me from behaving as barbarically as everyone else.

So I finished the story.  I went on to explain how Gull had died, and how I'd begun drinking rather badly after he died.  I didn't even have to look up to know that Gull didn't approve of my actions immediately following his death.  I ignored him, and kept going.  I told them about the ship, and leaving the Moonshaes.  I told them about the curse…not surprisingly, no one agreed with me about the curse.  And I confess...with all that's happened, I'm beginning to wonder as well. The idea of the curse had come about because I thought that the people I loved died every six years…but I had loved Tristain, and he was not dead…not even gone forever, for here he was back again, and unharmed.  Gull was back as well…and wouldn't a curse have prevented that?  Andar claimed that he'd checked me for a curse a long time ago, and that there was nothing there.  I hadn't believed him because I was so certain…but now…what if they were right?  What if Gull and Emilia and Jael were just accidents?  What about my mother then?  She'd died to, hadn't she?  But even as I said that…still clinging to the curse…a curse, that I admit, I could think of nothing I'd done that would have brought such about…Tristain spoke up, and told me that our mother had not died…and indeed, she and our father were both still alive, still living in the same house in Archendale.  Coincidence, Gull said…and the others agreed…but how could it have been?  The curse had given me a purpose…a goal to achieve…but what if it had not really existed at all?  I didn't know what to think…there was far too much information…too much to deal with…so I let the argument go, and went back to the story.  It was easier to talk, then to think anyhow.  All I had to do was pretend that I was telling a story about someone else; as Jael had told stories…that way all I had to do was talk.  

  So I went on about how I'd met the others, like Guar and Kedra, and about how we'd all died on our way to Waterdeep.  I told them how we'd awoken, two years later, in a strange room, here in the Dalelands.  I told them about everything that had happened since then…all of the adventures, our quest to remove the controlling tattoos…about building the keep and my reasons for doing so…about the fighting the first dragon, and how the others had died…and the truth of what had happened to Durand…about winning the contest in Acheron, and returning to find my keep taken by the Cult of the Dragon…about getting drunk the night before, and waking to find that I'd had Gull brought back from the dead…of returning to the keep…and finally, that I'd screamed because when I saw Tristain, the force of my memories returning had hurt so much.  And finally…many hours after I'd begun, I finished, and sat back.  I pulled a flask from my pocket to have a drink…I wasn't really paying attention to what it was…when Gull sniffed the air suddenly, and snatched the flask away.

"What?" I demanded, irritably.  "Can't I have a bloody drink, seeing as how I've talked myself hoarse trying to explain everything to you?" 

"Do you even know what this is?" he demanded.  I sniffed the air, and recognized the familiar scent of a very expensive liquor.

"Aye…it's Dragon's Breath…and a damned fine drink, I might add.  Look, I'm not going to drink myself stupid again…I've only done so once since I was brought back."  I held my hand out for the flask.  Gull kept it from my reach, and shook his head.  

"Dragon's Breath is addictive!"

"Yeah, well I'm not addicted, all right?"  Still, he wouldn't give it back…oh yes, that was Gull…always looking out for me…even if he had to annoy the hells out of me to do it.  I gave up…I was tired and I just wanted a damned drink.  I got up and stalked over to the table and grabbed up a decanter of clear liquid, and poured myself a glass.  Gull looked at it suspiciously for a moment.  Hells…who needed a father and a brother…I had Gull, and he was worse than both combined.  I can hardly think what possessed me to bring him back!  

"It's water!" I snarled at him.  "Can I have a bloody glass of water, or is that bad for me too?"  

"Stop behaving like a child," Gull replied, mildly.

"Stop treating me like I have no sense!"

"Stop acting like you don't."

"I didn't know it was addictive, all right?!"  I shouted.  I was tensing up… this was beginning to be far too much for me…too much to happen in too short a period of time.  I didn't have any time to adjust to anything…I heard a cracking, then the glass in my hand shattered from my grip on it.  I knew I was breathing too quickly, and I tried to slow myself down a bit.  I looked around the room…saw Andar getting up…the others standing…coming towards me.  Not good…I needed to think…I had to find a place to be quiet for a minute, where I could think without everyone watching me.  So, I bolted…being that it was my keep, I knew all of the secrets to it…and that meant the fastest ways out.  I ran down the stairs, out the door, and across the courtyard.  Takklinn was still working with the men, and I heard questions shouted at me as I ran past them.  I went down into the storage room, under the keep, and kept going.  Past the door into the beehive, and to the hidden door that concealed Lyklor's hall.  I went down the hall…, which was now a series of concealed room, until I got to the room at the very end…where the kobolds had been living when we'd first come to the keep. The dwarves had fixed it, and built it so that there was no way into it but a cleverly hidden secret door. I'd added a bed, and trunks, and a few tapestries so that it was more comfortable.  Usually it was the room where I kept the actual money in the keep, not the small amounts that I kept in the fake rooms to throw any "thieves" off.  It was a safe room, because it was right next to Lyklor's keep, and I know the ghost used it from time to time.  It was to this room I went, and locked the door behind me.  It was as quiet as a tomb, as I laid down on the bed, taking long, deep breaths.  I was having trouble dealing with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours…and I needed to be away from everyone for a while…and this was the best place to go in the keep.  Because there was no way into the keep from this room, I'd told no one about it…not even Takklinn…no one would find me here.  It was my place alone…and Lyklor would not enter without permission…he was a rather polite ghost.  I thought about a lot of things down there…about the curse…about my parents and Tristain…about Gull and Emilia…about Andar…I came to a few conclusions…mostly, I accepted the fact that the curse might indeed have been only a figure of my imagination…a series of terrible coincidences that I'd built up in my mind.  I accepted the fact that I was falling in love with Andar, despite my better judgment, and that, it seemed, he had no intentions of giving up…I didn't know what to do about that, though.  Falling in love with anybody was not really something I'd never planned for.  I think what Andar wanted was for me to completely his…and I wasn't certain if I was ready yet to give up my other lovers and to change the ways I'd been for so long, though.

Gull was back, and I was responsible for it.  He didn't seem overly upset …maybe he was even glad he was back.  I would ask him for help…to teach the men of the keep how to fend off attacks they could see as well as those they couldn't.  I was glad that he was back…I knew that much, for as much as I argued and fought with Gull, I loved him as well, and I had missed him.  I knew now that my parents were alive, and obviously hadn't given me up, or thrown me into the sea, as the kids at the church used to taunt me.  They were alive…and I had no doubt that they would be coming here as soon as Tristain sent word to them…and I knew he would do so soon.  As for Tristain himself…I didn't know what to think.  He was my brother…but not the brother I had known…not anymore.  Looking at him now, was like looking at a male reflection of myself…no wonder I'd mistaken him for a mirror image in my dreams.  He had the same crimson hair, with the same white bangs.  His hair was just as long as my own, tied up in a braid.  His face was like mine…his eyes were the same…he even had tattoos on the same places that I had tattoos…. It was uncanny…and yet it did not seem so strange either.  I can remember that we always tried to look alike and dress alike as children.  Naturally that meant that I hadn't been overly fond of dresses since Tristain couldn't wear them.  But for all that we looked alike, I did not know what type of person he'd grown up to be…I remembered a little boy, but it was a man who was now my brother.  I knew there were many questions I wanted to ask him…things I wanted to know about him…I should've gone back up…after all it was rude of me to have left everyone up there…but I was growing tired…I had had a rather strange morning…and so instead of getting up and returning, I fell asleep

For the second time that day, I awoke to see Gull's face.  Startled, I sat up suddenly, with a gasp.

"Nice job you've done," Gull complemented, looking around the room.  "It took me near to an hour to find this room…all those rooms within rooms, and distraction treasures, and whatnot.  Well done…you learned well."

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice was thick with sleepiness, as I wasn't quite awake yet.

"I came to find you, of course.  I convinced the others to leave you be for a while….that you needed time to think and catch your breath…but that was almost four hours ago.  Your brother and your boyfriend are get rather antsy, so I thought I'd come fetch you."

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied automatically.

"Sure…whatever you say.  Anyhow, let me tell you that I'm highly impressed with the bee trap, but there are a couple of other areas you could use work on."

"The bees aren't a trap, I use them for money to feed everyone in this damnable place."

"Well, they make a great trap anyhow," then he looked around, and his eyes widened.

"You've done well adventuring, I see."  He was looking at the bags and trunks full of gems and coins that I kept stored down here.  I shrugged.

"A lot of it's from when we killed the fang dragon…a crazy Sembia rich boy bought the skeleton for a million gold.  Since only me, Guar, and Kedra lived, we only split the money three ways…and this is all that's left after I gave away about half of my third."  Gull whistled appreciatively.

"I always knew you were meant for better things than a life as a small-time thief in the Moonshaes."

"I wish you'd told me more about the mainlands, and the outlanders.   I've made more dumb mistakes since coming here, I swear.  Hells, I didn't even know that drow were bad until Daz informed that they were and I was a fool for trying to friendly with evil ones."  Gull shrugged.

"I guess I figured I had plenty of time to tell you later…" he paused for a moment, his weathered face serious.  "Raine, I'm sorry."  Gull never apologized…

"For what then?"

"For many things…I'm sorry I left you…I'm sorry I didn't better prepare you for things…and…I'm sorry I failed you that once."  I knew what he meant…I felt odd…this was Gull…we never thought about the past, only the future…and Gull and I never apologized to one another…or at least we hadn't before.

"That wasn't your fault…it was mine," I replied, but he shook his head.

"I should've trained you more than I did...better than I did…I should've done a lot of things that I didn't do…I failed you, and I'm sorry.

"You didn't fail me Gull…I'd never have survived and gotten to where I am now without your help and everything you taught me.  The things I learned from you…they gave a purpose.  I've tried to keep to what you told me.  No mercy for the wicked…I couldn't ask for a better friend and mentor than you…I'm just sorry I couldn't save you."  Gull smiled…it didn't make his nose look any better but he had a nice smile.  He shook his head.

"Fighting the Cult and the Zhentarim…good job girl…but you know that you've made enemies by doing so."  I nodded.

"That's why I need you Gull.  You taught me, but I can't be here all the time.  I work for the Harpers…" his eyes widened at that, for that was one part of my story I had left out.  "I have to leave if they call me, and I need to know that the people here are safe.  I need you to teach my men the things you taught me… show them how to protect against attacks that aren't straight forward."  He nodded slowly.

"I can't just drill them, you know…not like you've got your little dwarf up there doing."

"So take them aside, one at a time…it doesn't matter how."

"I can do it…and we'll fix up the defenses here a bit.  You've done a good start, but there's more that I can add to make it even safer.

"Do whatever you think is best…I trust you Gull," I added softly.

"I know…I'm…proud of you, Raine."  He replied.  I didn't say anything… I felt a great deal better though…Gull was back…I could feel safe again, knowing that he was there, helping out.  Soon, I would have my family back again…things would be right again…I could almost feel it…I hoped that Tymora would continue to smile on me.

Gull and I headed back up.  On the way out, I introduced him to Lyklor, and thanked the ghost for his invaluable assistance with the Cult.

"It was my pleasure, dear lady…and after all…this is my home as well, and I will do as I must to defend it.  I confess, I did try to stop them when they first arrived, but that foul creature who was once a woman, used a spell that harmed even my incorporeal form, and it took a while for me to recover."  I nodded, and told him that I would come play my harp for him again, soon.

"I shall look forward to it," he replied, and bowed, then vanished.  Gull shook his head, and grinned.

"You certainly have found some interesting allies Raine, m'girl."  I shrugged.  Could I help it if people seemed to like me, dead or otherwise?

We went back to the ground floor of the keep.  It was already late into the afternoon. Captain Takklinn was putting another group of soldiers through their paces, tirelessly, in the tilting yard.  There was no sign of my party members, however.  I showed Gull around the rest of the keep, then introduced him to Captain Takklinn and the soldiers and explained what he would be helping them do.  Captain Takklinn seemed a bit wary at first, but warmed up considerably once he realized that Gull had no intentions of trying to take his place.  I left them to it, and headed over to the great hall.  I went to the kitchen first and had a quick talk with Miri.  The large cook was slamming around in her kitchen, cursing about the Cult, and saying lots of "how dare they…" comments.  She seemed glad to see me, and I informed her that there would be several more people at the keep, and potentially more than that coming.  I told her that she had permission to hire herself an assistant…someone that she could trust to help with the cooking.  Miri seemed cheered at that…both that she was getting an assistant, and that she was the one would get to do the choosing.  I left her to her work, preparing dinner, and moved upstairs.  I spoke with the maids, Lureene and Shandri.  They were naturally a bit upset about what had happened…but there had been no harm done, and they both told me that they had no wish to leave the keep.

"We like workin' for ye," Lureene stated.

"Aye…we'll not be leavin' unless ye put us out yerself, miss," Shandri added, smiling brightly.  And my heart lightened a bit more at that…the people working here were more than just good people…they were loyal…and they were becoming my friends…and that was the most important reason why I sought to make them safe.

Finally, I went to Andar's room…he was inside, waiting for me.  His eyes caught mine…then quickly drifted down to my hand…which still had dried blood on it from when I had broken the glass and cut my hand.

He sighed, and stood, taking up a bowl of water and a cloth.  I didn't say anything as he began to clean off the wound.  It wasn't bad enough for a healing spell…only a scratch or two.

"When will you learn to take care of yourself, Raine?" he asked.

        "Why should I?  I have you," I replied, simply.  He looked up at that.

"What?  No sarcastic words?  No, "I can take care or myself just fine?"" Andar asked, his voice a bit bitter.  I shrugged.  

"I'm sorry that I've hurt you," I said.  He straightened up as he finished tying a bandage on my hand.

           "You didn't tell me things...things that you should've told me."

                  "You know now…why does it matter so much?" I asked.

                                                          "It does…"

"I've slept with a great many men, Andar…Inialos and Dazelin aren't the first…nor are you.  I don't know if I can change my ways…"  He shook his head, his brown hair shone softly in the light.

                                 "I love you Raine…and I won't share."

"I'm not going to promise anything…not when I don't know if I can keep it."  He muttered something then…low under his breath so I could make it out…but I thought I heard him say "I'll keep it for you…"

"Why didn't you tell that you were…raped?" he asked.  I shrugged again…it seemed to be my favorite gesture lately.

"Does it really matter? I don't think about it very much…it just doesn't seem important."  He shook his head.

             "I wish I could've been there…that I could've done something."

"Don't be foolish…there's nothing you could've done…it's over with, a long time over…the men who did it are long dead…I don't want to talk about it…it's not important anymore."  Andar reached out, and touched my face…slid his callused palm back…touched my hair…I jerked away from him, involuntarily.  He stepped back, his anger returned.

                                   "Why won't you let me touch you?"

                               "You can touch me…just…not my hair."

"Why?  What's so important about your hair?  Why can't you trust me?!"  He demanded, his tone wounded.  

                "I can't tell you…not yet..maybe not ever…it all depends."

"Depends on what?" he asked, grabbing my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.

"It depends on you…I do trust you…but it's not a matter of trust," I whispered.  He let me go.

"Isn't it enough that I love you?" he asked…I could hear the pain…I was causing it…but I couldn't give in…I wouldn't do it…not until I knew for certain my own mind and my own heart…not until I knew for certain about the curse…and not until I knew that his love was more than the casual proclamations that many other men had made to me…

"I have to go Andar…I know you want to talk more…but…I need to talk with my brother…I haven't seen him for seventeen years…I have so much to ask him."                                             

"Why won't you answer me?" he asked, dragging his fingers of one hand through his hair, eyes fixed on mine.  

"Because I'm not ready to answer you, and neither are you," I finally replied.  Then, without another word, I turned to leave.

"Raine…Tressa…whatever you want to be called now…I'm not giving up…this isn't over."

"I'll see you at dinner Andar, " was all the answer I gave him…even though, silently, I bid him not to give up on me…not yet.

I found Tristain in the garden…he was looking up into the tree at Rosaal's house.  Rossal was in the tree sitting up near Isis, who'd built a nest in one of the higher branches.  I supposed that it wouldn't be long now before the fat little thing laid her eggs…then we'd have a flock of pseudodragons around the keep.  He turned to me, even though I know I had been silent in my approach.  Maybe it was that he could feel my presence when I approached, even as I could now, vaguely feel his.

"Tressa," he greeted me, the vague expression of awe still on his face.  Before I could protest, he grabbed me up in a fierce hug.  I wasn't used to actual displays of affection…not since Lady Emilia had died…Gull and I were close, but never very touchy-feely.  

"I missed you so much," he whispered, in elven…that familiar language that I'd always known, even if I hadn't know why…we'd always spoke elven at home.  He released me after a moment, but not completely…keeping my hand trapped in his.  I looked down and noticed his fingers had callused at the tips of them…harp playing calluses…I wondered if my brother could play the harp, as I did…as our father had.

"Mom and Dad…they'll never believe this…they thought that after all these years, that you were dead," he said.  "They thought that the Zhentarim had killed you to punish them.  I told them you weren't though…I always knew you were alive…but I didn't know how to find you…I never thought that it was because you couldn't remember us that you didn't come home."

"I dreamt about you," I told him.  "Every time I dreamed, it was always of you, only I didn't know it.  There was a pond, and I would walk up to it, and look down…I saw you in the water, although I never knew who you were…I just thought you were me…my reflection…you always seemed to try to tell me something, but then the fist hit the water, and you would be gone."

"I was trying to tell you something…I dreamt the same thing…all my life, since the day you were taken.  I kept trying ask you where you were… trying to tell you to come home…but you could never hear me," he said, his voice sad.

"I tried…I always tried…I can't believe that for all these years I listened to that damned Zhent.  He told me to forget…and I did…I forgot everything… even the most important things…he told me not to cry…and to this day, I have never cried…I used to think that there was something wrong with me… everyone else could cry, but not me."  Tristain shook his head…I watched, marveling at his appearance…his presence…his hand tightened on mine, as though he were afraid I'd disappear again if he let go.

"It wasn't you…I'm so sorry, Tressa…I tried to save you, but I failed."  It felt strange to be called Tressa…for so long I'd been Raine, that my own name seemed foreign to me when he said it.

"It wasn't your fault, Tristain...you were a little boy…there's nothing either of us could've done…besides...there's no sense thinking about it now… it's done with, and we can't change that.  All that matters is that you found me again…I have so much I need to know," I added.  He nodded.

'Tell what happened to everyone after…I was gone."   We wandered over to the bench under the tree, and sat down…he leaned back, and a change came over him…it was familiar…like Jael had changed when he was about to launch into a tale.

"After you left, Father killed all those men, while they couldn't move…mom…mom was hurt…she was hurt badly…but she kept chanting, and after a bit, the blood began to stop…and she lived.  She managed to stop the poison and the bleeding, but she was very weak and very sick afterwards…for a long time.  Dad seemed to go crazy for a while…one of the men was still alive, and Dad kept screaming at the man to tell him where Frezalon had taken you…but the man didn't know, and he died before Dad could find out if it was true.  

The days after were so fuzzy…Mom and Dad said I cried constantly, but I can hardly remember anything.  I was sick…I had a terrible fever and it lasted for weeks it seemed…Mom and Dad didn't understand why…at first they thought that the Zhents had done something to me, and they had all sorts of priests check me out…but none of them could find any reason…then they thought that I had made myself sick because I missed you.  In any case, I eventually got better, but I had a hard time concentrating and doing normal things for a long time after that.  I was rather stumbly, too.  I knew that I wanted you back more than anything…but that no one could find you.  Mom and Dad tried…they tried so hard…Dad hired all sorts of people…the best, to find you.  He must've spent a fortune…but they never found even the slightest trace of where the Zhent had taken you.  Mom prayed all the time, trying to find you, but she said that you were in a place where Labelas could not reach you…When Dad heard that, he took it to mean that you were dead…he thought that death was the only place beyond the reach of a god.  I'd never seen our father cry…but after that, he cried at night…when he thought no one was listening.  Time went on, and he decided that even though you were dead, and we had to get on with life again.  He had a tombstone made up, with your name on it…and there was a funeral and everything.  I didn't go…I refused, because I knew that you weren't dead, and no one, not Dad and not any god was going to tell otherwise.  I don't know if Mom ever really believed you were dead either, but I think she went along with everything for Dad's sake.

After you were gone, things changed at home.  Dad never seemed to smile…and it was a long time before he could bear to play music again…and when he did, all his songs seemed sad…like the happiness went out of them.  Mom was the same…she didn't sing anymore…she didn't laugh.  They were so nervous about me...they wouldn't even let me go outside without one of them, with me.  They were very, very cautious, all the time…they didn't trust strangers…they kept to the house a lot…and they never let me do anything alone…anything they thought might be unsafe.  Sometimes I felt like they were smothering me.  

It eased up a bit as the years went by…but they never completely got over what happened to you.  Of course, I was still a brat…more spoiled than ever…but I would've given up everything to have you back…to have our parents back the way they were.  

I started having the dreams not long after you left…that's how I knew you were alive…than, and the pain…I always knew if you were hurt, cause I could feel it.  And I began to get these awful headaches.  Mom said they were migraines, but no spell or medicine she gave me seemed to help."  At that point I interrupted.                                             

"You said that you could feel I was hurt?  How do you mean?"  He shrugged.      

"I can feel it…I would get a bruise, when I had no reason to get one…I would feel pain in a part of my body, when I hadn't done anything…it would always go away after a few minutes, but it was still there…and it wasn't my imagination."

"I had the same thing happen to me…but everyone just said that I'd fallen down, or hit myself and forgotten about it," I exclaimed…so that was the answer for the bruises…somehow, perhaps it was because we were twins, I was linked with Tristain, and as I could feel his pain, so, too, could he feel mine.  I winced.

                                                   "I'm sorry," I said.

                                                "For what?" he asked.

"For the past year…if you could feel my pain, then you probably felt all the fights I've gotten into the past year."  It was his turn to wince, as he rubbed his side.                                       

                                 "Yeah…I could…especially yesterday."                                                   

                                     "Sorry," I repeated.  He shrugged.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault…just…try to be a little more careful, okay?" I nodded…it never occurred to me that I wasn't the only one being hurt when I got beat up…of course, why would it have, when I couldn't remember anything anyhow?

"So, any way…things went on…Dad eventually began playing again…he's still pretty popular…but he's more known for his sad songs than anything else.  You remember how Dad always had short hair?"  I nodded…I can remember our father saying that short hair was far easier to take car of…but mom said that no daughter of hers was going to have short hair…mom's hair had been waist length, and black as ebony.

  "Anyhow, I can remember that he tried to get me to cut my hair, a couple of times, but I wouldn't have it…I didn't even know why at the time…but I if anything one so much as looked at my hair with a sharp object in their hand, I would scream…Even trimming it was a chore for mom, because I was always terrified that she'd cut it my hair off…but I guess I know why I let it grow so long, now," he said as he ruefully held up the end of his braid, and matched it with mine.

"You think that even though we were thousands of miles apart, that we could still know things about each other?"  I asked. He nodded.

"Why not?  We were always close…we're twins…if we could dream the same dream and feel each other's pain, why could we somehow sense what the other wanted?  For instance…when did you start playing the harp?"  He gestured to hands…the callused fingertips which matched his own.  I thought for a moment.

                               "I must have been about 8 or 9," I replied.

                                       "Why did you start learning?"

"I don't know…I just took it into my head one day, when I heard a bard playing."

"Hah!  You see?  When I was 8 and a half, I decided that I wanted to play music…like Dad…only I wanted to play happy music again…so he started teaching me how to play."

                                      "This is really odd," I mentioned.  

"Not that odd," Tristain replied.  "I've heard that among the dwarves there are a group called the Thunder Twins…and they seem to be able to do a great deal of strange things."

"Kedra and Keberk are Thunder twins," I stated…then thought about it…if Kedra and her brother always seemed to know where the other was, why couldn't Tristain and I have something similar…and so he was right, in that it wasn't all that odd.

                      "So after that?"  I asked, wanting him to continue.

"Well, about that time Thera was born, and things began to change a little…for the better, I thought.  Mom and Dad seemed to smile again…but never as much as they used to…and…"

          "Who's Thera?"  I asked, although I already suspected the answer.

"Oh…that's right, you wouldn't know…umm…Thera is our sister…she's fourteen."                  

'We have a sister?" I asked, shocked…somehow I thought that it was just Tristain and me…it never occurred to me that there could be other…younger siblings.

'Two, actually…and a younger brother…although Beckett is more like an annoying gnat than a brother, sometimes," Tristain laughed, but I didn't.  Two sisters and two brothers?  This was too overwhelming…I could handle the idea of Tristain…he was like a part of me…but more siblings?  Me, who had never wanted siblings to begin with?  Hells…I don't even really like kids all that much…and from witnessing other people with siblings…I wasn't sure I wanted any…but it looked like I had no choice…  Then I heard Tristain talking to me, and went back to paying attention.

"….hey, deep breath…calm down…they're not that bad, I swear.  Annoying, but they're good kids…that's right…calm down…look, I know this is a lot for you to deal with…hells, it's a lot for me to deal with…but I've had all my life to know Thera, and Joslyn, and Beckett…I've had all my life to know you were alive, and to wait for you…but everything's just hitting you all at once…if you want to stop now, we can…we can finish talking some more tomorrow."  I took a deep breath…I'd been breathing too fast again…gods I was turning into such a weakling…and practically over night…

"No…I want to know everything else…I won't be able to sleep tonight, thinking about it," I stated.

"All right, then…so anyhow, Thera came along, and Mom and Dad brightened up again…I guess with a baby around, they didn't have as much time to keep moping around and feeling sorry for themselves.  I can't say as I much cared for Thera, though.  I got really mad when they told me about her…I thought that they were trying to replace you…I told them I didn't want another sister and that I hated them for not finding you instead …needless to say, it was not one of my finer moments.  I guess they understood, though…they tried to give me time to adjust to Thera…but I was only 8…and I still missed you…and Thera…well, she was…and still is…rather loud and obnoxious, so that certainly didn't make it any easier.  They relaxed a bit though, and Dad let me take sword lessons with a friend of his, a woman named Rhowenna, every afternoon.  So between swords and music, I didn't have a whole lot of time to pout about anything…though I managed once in a while," he grinned, unashamedly.

"So, I guess Mom and Dad thought that if one baby was a good thing, that two was better…so they ended up having Thera, then Joslyn, then Beckett, all within 6 years, Beckett being the youngest, at ten.  I suppose you want to know a bit about them too?" he asked…I didn't really…not yet, but he went on, and I didn't stop him…I liked the sound of his voice…it wasn't the old Tristain's voice, but then, he wasn't 6 anymore…he had a voice that reminded me of Jael's…deep and smooth…and it drew your attention, made you want to listen to anything he had to say.

"Thera's a bit of a tomboy…well…more than a bit really…you should've seen it…the day she hacked all her hair off.  Thera used to have long red hair…like ours, but without the white…then, last year, she got fed up with it, and took a knife to it.  I thought that Dad was going to kill her…and Mom just stood there, staring.  It was amazing…Dad's always had trouble with us and our hair…he wants me to cut all mine off, he wants Thera to grow hers back…Beckett wants to grow his out, but Dad won't let him…about the only one who behaves is Joslyn, and that's only because she's such a little prissy princess.  You see, Thera likes to fight, to get dirty, to rides horses…that kind of thing…but Joslyn, she just the opposite.  She hates being dirty…she always has to have her hair just so…she always wears dresses…frilly, lacy, dresses…and she has more dolls than any girl in the realms, I swear…and she accessorizes them…whatever doll she carries around for the day always has to have a matching outfit to her.  She's got red hair, too, only she would just die before cutting it off.   She's always going on and on about how we should behave, and always be good…I think she does it to get attention…and praise…but for all that, like I said, she's not bad.

Then there's Beckett…we all call him Beck, is ten…and boy does he like to cause trouble…his favorite word since the time he could talk is "why."  It's not even that he cares about the answer, so long as it annoys you to answer it.  He's the only one of us who really looks like mom…he's got her dark hair, and he looks more elven than human, but his eyes are like dad's."  Three siblings…I thought…good gods…with any luck, I won't have to deal with them much.  At least, if nothing else, Tristain is my age…but 14, 12, and 10?  I wouldn't even know where to begin…dealing with children has never been my strongest point.

"Well, by the time Beckett came around, I was thirteen or so, and father apprenticed me to another bard…said that way I could get a feel for other styles of music.  I was still working on my swords and such, but I was beginning to get pretty good.  It was the first time since you, that mom and dad let me out of their sight for more than a few minutes.  Anyhow, I think that the Zhents might've come back to bother Dad again, once or twice…seeing as there would be a stranger who would show up at the door every now and then…but they only came once, and never twice.  Dad has a lot of friends in Archendale…a lot of powerful friends now, and I'm pretty sure that they had something to do with the disappearance of the strangers.

Pretty much beyond the weird stuff, like the bruises, though…I had a fairly normal life.  I kept training as a bard, and a fighter until I was about 18 or 19.  Life was pretty dull in Archendale…or at least if anything interesting ever happened, I certainly never heard it.  I decided to go adventuring when I was nineteen…Mom and Dad threw a fit.  They didn't want me to go, it wasn't safe…all the old excuses…But I was determined.  So they said I could…not that I would've listened had the answer been different…only that I couldn't leave the Dalelands without telling them…that I had to go with a group of people, and that I had to come home as often as I could.  I knew they were worried about me, and so I agreed.  I adventured for about a year…nothing as exciting as what you've done…mostly your average goblins, a couple of bandit encounters, that sort of thing.  Nothing special…and yes," he blushed, "I rather enjoyed the company of women who didn't know me since I was in diapers…I'm not saying I didn't, it just that…"  

"Don't even say it!"  I cautioned him…he shut his mouth quickly…things were going along well enough without him trying to be an older brother, and disapproving.

"So everything was going great, when it happened…I felt you die.  I knew it the moment in happened…I couldn't breathe…I felt like I was drowning…I could feel your fear…and then I couldn't feel anything anymore.  It was the most awful thing that I'd ever felt...there was nothing anyone could do to help me…I guess for a long time I was lost in my own mind…I kept trying to find you, trying to reach out for you, but there was nothing there.  I don't remember most of what went on during that time…only what the others…my friends, and our parents have told me.  They said I just stop responding…I wouldn't eat, or talk, or anything…I just sat there staring at nothing.  They said sometimes I would scream…and sometimes I would cry…and once in a while I would say your name, but never anything else.  I was with my friends at the time, and they took me to a church…the temple of Tyr, The Abbey of the Just Hammer, in Featherdale…they left me there, and returned to Archendale to get my parents.  The priests, I gather, tried everything, but what was wrong with me wasn't anything physical, and it wasn't any outside, or magical force…they said they couldn't do anything for an ailment of the soul.  I was at the temple for nearly a year…but I never got any better.  Finally, Mom and Dad decided to take me home.  They thought that maybe if I was among familiar things again that I would have a better chance of coming back.  I imagine they must have felt awful…I don't think that they ever really thought you were dead until then…I guess they lost it a bit too…Dad's mother came to live with us for a while, mostly to take care of the little ones...she's the only one of our grandparents who'll still talk with mom and dad…I gather mom got in a lot of trouble with her family for marrying a human.

Anyhow, I remember that for a while I wanted to die so that I could be with you again…but I couldn't make myself do anything to bring it about…I couldn't hurt Mom and Dad that way…so I was trapped…it was like being between life and death…" And I thought of that gray place I'd been after the shipwreck…a place that seemed to be timeless…a place seemed to be somewhere between life an death…and I realized that Tristain and I…our souls were inexplicably intertwined…and that with my soul so trapped, his was as well. 

"Then, two years after it began, I woke up…it was that simple.  I felt you again…stronger than ever…I knew that something had happened, but not what…only that I felt you were alive again…somewhere.  Naturally, Mom and Dad were crazy-happy that I'd "come back."  They said they'd tried everything they could think of…but I'd been unresponsive…and it had been two years…I couldn't believe it at first.  I wanted to get back to life though…I wanted to go back to adventuring…wandering around and learning new songs, that sort of thing…but it took me a long time to convince Mom and Dad to let me go…nearly six months.  I went back on the road last summer, around the time that that weird scar appeared in the sky...just after Shieldmeet…when I heard that some weird group of adventurers had tried to kill someone up by Aencar's manor.  I heard the story…I even heard the name Raine the Banshee mentioned a few times in the past year…but I vow, I never thought, I never even considered that it might be you.  And all this time you've been here in Battledale…and I've been in and out of Ashabenford and Essembra twice, and never saw you!"  He shook his head, as though amazed by it all.  I, too, was amazed…how could I not be?  All this time, I'd been no more than a ten-day from home, and so close to my family, I might've seen my twin in the streets…but coincidence and my damnable faulty memory kept us apart.  

"I have to send word to Mom and Dad as soon as possible…they'll want to come here…to see you," he told me.  I nodded, outwardly calm…but inwardly quaking.  What would they think of me?  Would they be proud of who I was, or would they be angry…or disappointed?  It's not like I had the most honorable of professions…I wasn't even a bard, like my brother, but a thief…a troublemaker…and…a slut.  Was that what they would see in me?  Would they turn from me, and think that it would have been better if I'd died?  I didn't really think that they would…but what if?  What if they didn't want me anymore?  After all, I was a different person…not their little Tressa anymore.  Raine the Banshee was not a peaceful person…I brought trouble with me wherever I went…trouble and misfortune.  They would want to keep their other kids safe, right?  And if a choice had to be made, they would surely choose four over one…I don't think I could bear it to get them back, and then lose them again.  It might not kill me, but…I don't think I could take it.  The curse…that damnable curse was always there…I hardly knew what to believe anymore…real or coincidence?   What if something happened to them while they were traveling to get here?  Maybe it would be better if I went to Archendale instead…but if I did that, what if the Cult came back, and tried to take the keep again…what if this time they killed everyone.  I was torn between two sets of loyalties…in the end, it didn't matter, for the choice was made for me the next day.

"Tressa?  Tressa?"  Tristain asked next to me…it took me a moment to recognize my own name being called.  Which of course brought up another question…would it be right to keep calling myself Raine?  Or should I tell everyone to call me Tressa?  I was far more used to Raine, but my name was really Tressa…I sighed.  Why did life have to be so difficult?

"Tressa, it's dark out…I think we should go inside now," Tristain stated, standing.  He pulled me to my feet.  My stomach grumbled loudly then.

Tristain laughed.

"Come on then, I smell something lovely coming from your hall."  I smiled…I felt at ease with him…and for the first time in a long time, I felt complete.

"Yes, Miri's rather a good cook, although it can be rather plain sometimes …her motto is "good food and lots of it"…oh, but we'd better wash up before we go in, or else she'll take our hands off at the wrists," I warned him.  He nodded at the sage advice, and we washed up outside before entering the hall.  

As promised the food was excellent…at least, I think that anything I don't have to cook myself is excellent…but no one else seemed to be complaining either, so I took that as a good sign.  Tristain sat at my side, and spoke to me through the evening, asking the names of the people at the keep, and flirting with the maids, Lureene and Shandri, who'd decided, for some "strange" reason, to help serve dinner that night.  Usually, Miri would just load the food on a sideboard near the big table and we would help ourselves. Andar was quiet, which was rare, for the cleric was fond of asking questions and voicing his opinion, if nothing else.  I could feel his eyes on me, and did my very best not to glance at him more than a dozen times over the course of the meal.  After dinner, most of the soldiers returned to their barracks to sleep…and Ranearal wandered off with Dayton somewhere, the two muttered in low tones.  I think that perhaps Dayton had hired Ranearal to make some magic item for him, and that was why the two had asked for money earlier.  Guar and Violet left early…with Guar making dumb faces at the female half-orc…but I knew that he'd not managed to get into her pants as of yet, for he'd not displayed the universal "cat-with-the cream" grin that all men seemed to wear upon proving their sexual prowess…besides…he stilled seemed far too eager.  Eventually the people in the hall dwindled to myself, Andar, Kedra, Gull, Tristain, Miri, and the maids…the latter three, no doubt because they lived in the rooms on the second floor of the hall, and the former…well...who knows why.

We all sat quietly for a while, except for my brother and myself.  We'd talked almost non-stop through dinner…though since we spoke in elven, I wondered how many of the others had understood us.  Tristain asked dozens of questions…about all sorts of strange little things, that had never occurred to me to tell him...what was my favorite color…purple…so was his…where had I gotten my tattoos done…by Gull, and by my own hand, mostly…what was my favorite food…anything so long as it wasn't burnt, or dragon…he raised an eyebrow at the last… What did I like to do best…play music of course…or at the very least listen…he seemed to agree with that.  Eventually, he took out his harp, at my request, and began to play a song for me.  I'd never heard it before…it was an old tale of an elf and a treant…and he sang, and played it so well, that I felt I could almost see the characters.  He was much better at playing than I was, that was for certain…and watching him, I picked up all sorts of ideas to try the next time I played…which I confess hasn't been for a while.  When he finished, he asked if I wished him to play another…and if I would sing with him…I agreed to the first…he could play all night if that was what he wished…but me…sing?  With my banshee's wail of a voice…I think not.  He seemed confused when I refused to sing.

"But why not?  You always loved to sing…and you have a beautiful voice…everyone always said so."  I felt a sudden, irrational twinge of anger.  Everyone had not always said so…I could still remember the taunts from the other children…at the church…in the village…

"There are those who say my voice is ugly…and I'm rather inclined to believe that any voice that can draw blood from the ears that hear it, and shatter the glass in windows a hundred feet away is not a pleasant thing to hear."  Now where had that come from? I wondered, even as the words left my mouth.  I sometimes find myself surprised to discover strange thoughts and feelings rise in me…things I'd thought I'd buried as a child, that come back to haunt me when I least expect it.  Still…it had been a trying day…and I was still feeling a bit out of sorts, or else I never would have let anyone hear that little prize of bitterness…after all, I've always been of the belief that I should hide my pain with cheerfulness, as it would not let my enemies know my weaknesses…not that I thought Tristain…or anyone else in the room to be my enemy…In an effort to cover my slip, I quickly rose, and feigned a yawn.

"I'm rather tired…I think that I'll head out now…it's been a really long day, after all.  Tristain, you can take one of the rooms over in the other hall…most of the upstairs rooms are empty.  'night."  Then, before anyone could mention anything else…I strode from the hall.  I knew that the others would show Tristain to his room.  I went back to my tower, and up to my room.  Shandri and Lureene must've been at work again, for the broken glass and water was gone, the floor clean swept.  I quickly stripped down, and climbed into my bed.  It seemed rather too large, for once…and cold without Andar in it.  I sighed, and mentally berated myself for being such a baby.  After all…I'd slept alone often enough before…it wasn't like I needed Andar to sleep…still and all…it was a while before I managed to get to sleep.

         When I awoke next, it was already morning, and it was to the sensation of being kissed…touched by warm hands.  I opened my eyes to see Andar above me…in the bed with me.  His robes were on the chair nearby… neatly folded…and I guessed that he'd joined me sometime over the course of the night.  Against my better judgment, I let Andar continue his kissing and caresses, until we were both highly aroused, and felt the need to finish.  There's nothing quite like waking up and being made love to in the morning.  I have to confess that Andar has never left me disappointed, and that morning was no exception…except for one thing…once I began to shudder with pleasure, I waited for him to pull away so he could have his own release.  He eventually did climax…but he never pulled out.  When we were both able to breath easily again, I sat up and gave him a hard look.  

"I thought you said you wouldn't take the cassil," I asked him, icily.  For a moment, he looked bewildered, as though wondering what was going on.

                                            "I don't…you know that."

"Then why in the hells didn't you stop?!"  I demanded, a bit more harshly that I meant to.

                                 "You told me not to," he snapped back.

                                       "When did I say that?"  I asked.

"Yesterday night, of course!  You said that you didn't want me to leave you…you wouldn't let me pull away!" he stated as he stood up, and jerked his tunic and pants on.  Yesterday night…of course…the night I had no real recollection of what had happened…

"Oh…so I told you this yesterday night…when I was completely and utterly drunk?"  I asked quietly.  Andar's face flushed, and he turned away.

"I…I'm sorry…I didn't even think about that…I should've…" he stumbled a bit over his words…I guess its hard for him, being such a good, wonderful person, to admit that he'd messed up…although truth to be told, I suppose I was even more to blame.  I always do the dumbest things when I'm drunk.

"Oh calm down…what's done is done…I'm sure nothing will come of it…but just try to remember to control yourself next time, unless you want more trouble in life than either of us need at the moment," I told him, even as I got up and dressed as well.  He nodded, curtly, then muttered something under his breath about "women," and headed outside…no doubt to walk the fields, as he usually did.

I was only a little embarrassed when I walked out of my room to see Tristain leaning against the wall just outside the door.  Normally being caught in the act, so to speak, wouldn't bother me, but Tristain _is_ my brother. He merely grinned when I asked him how long he'd been standing there, and replied,

                                                    "Long enough."

"Men," I muttered, wondering if being annoying was a birthright with them, or if they were each taught the ability, if they passed down the gift of irritating women from father to son?

Now, I know I had a lot to do…work some more with troops…head over and thank the dwarves of Glen for their aid, for they'd arrived armed and ready to fight shortly after the fight had ended…find Inialos, and thank him for his help…send a message to my parents, and begin to hunt down the lich…but I didn't really have time to do a whole lot of anything.  I spent the early morning with Tristain, practicing the words against him.  Now, I must admit that Tristain has a very pretty style of fighting…no doubt it complimented his bardic performances well…but it was more flash that substance…he was very good at searching out specific spots to hit, but only so long as I kept fighting honorably…which everyone knows is not really a smart thing to do, especially considering the way my enemies tend to fight.  Add the fact that I undoubtedly have more "field" experience than my brother, and the reality was that I was considerably better at the sword than he was.  I was rather gratified that he seemed impressed…at least there would be something I could do better than him, for I'd already gotten the impression that in everything save the hair argument, our parents thought Tristain could do no wrong…it would be hard to live up to that, especially with my rather shady past…hells, shady present as well.  

Now before I had a chance to do anything important, like I should have been doing, I had a visitor.  She had silver hair…and was immediately familiar, even though I hadn't seen her in months.

"Dove," I greeted as she walked, wondering what I'd done this time.  She asked to speak with me in private, and I led her off to the tower.  Once inside, she cast a spell to prevent anyone from listening in on us.

"I was wondering if you would check something out for us?"  She asked…us being the Harpers, of course.

                                           "And what's that?" I asked.

"Recently, in Sembia, a strange arch of bone has appeared on a hill near the water.  The arch is made of dragon bone, and there have been unusual sighting around it."

                                     "Really?  Dragon bone, you say?"

"Yes," she nodded.  "Our preliminary reports indicate that the Cult of the Dragon may be involved…and we decided that since you have had the most experience with the Cult of the Dragon recently, that we'd ask you to check it out."

"Recently?  I assume then, that you've heard what happened here two days ago?"  She nodded.  I sighed.

                 "Word about that got out quickly, didn't it?"  I groused.

"Well, you did have Inialos Oakwood gathering help…and he does tend to like to…talk," Dove explained with a shrug.  Oh well…not that it mattered much to me who heard…it was bound to get out anyhow.

                       "So what exactly do you want me to do?"  I asked.

"Simply, go down to Sembia and fins out what's going on…we'd like to have information on what the Cult is doing."  I grinned, feeling my anger for the Cult returning…only far more controlled and tempered with anticipation this time.

"So…you want at least one survivor, then?"  I asked casually.  Dove looked momentarily confused.

                                               "Well…yes, I suppose."

"Hmm…I suppose I can mange that.  I'll have to go asked the others if they want to come…I've no doubt they will…we'll leave as so as you show us where we have to go," I stated.  Dove nodded.  Then, she reached into her pocket and handed me a silvery, Harper pin.

"Here…offer this to your dwarven friend…Kedra.  She's proved to be a steadfast person of good, and the Harpers would extend the invitation to join us."  I took the pin, and nodded.  Kedra would probably do well as a Harper, especially seeing as she was a lot more curious than most dwarves I've heard of.  Dove was about to leave, when something occurred to me, and I stopped her.

"Oh…one more thing," I said, quietly.  "I thought I should tell you, that my real name is Tressa Harpstar…I only just found out."

       'Harpstar?  As in Kendal Harpstar?"  She asked, raising an eyebrow.                         

"Yeah?  Why?  Do you know him?"

"Let us just say that I've heard of him…he is rather well-known in Archendale."  

"Oh…well then…you just show us on a map where to go, and give me an hour or two and we'll be off, " I told her.  She nodded, gave me the directions and headed off.

I headed back outside, and to the yard where Kedra was standing near Captain Takklinn…obviously something weird had just happened, for Kedra was blushing fiercely, and Captain Takklinn stood there with his mouth opened, looking utterly dumbfounded.  I grabbed Kedra and dragged her off with me, and she gave me a grateful look just as we got out of eyesight with the others.

               "What was that all about?" I asked her.  She blushed again.

        "I think I made a mistake," she stated.  I waited for her to continue.

"Well…ye see…I got a thing fer Takklinn, an' I was tryin' to…ah…let him know.  So I uh…asked him if he needed help washing, since I don't have to wash Guar anymore…and he…well…I don't think I should've said anything about Guar."  I shook my head, trying not to laugh.

"No…I don't think you should have at that…listen, Kedra…you haven't had sex with Guar have you?"  She turned crimson, and shouted,

              'Of course not, ye daft human!  What do ye take me fer…?"

"Whoah, calm down… I had to ask…look, anyhow, we've been asked to look into something by a group of people, but when we get back, I promise I'll help you seduce Takklinn, all right?"

    "Ye'd do that?"  She asked, her face brightening considerably.  I nodded.         

"But first, I've been told to ask you something," I took the pin out and held it towards her.  Apparently she hadn't ever heard of the Harpers before…even being from the mainland, and all, for she stared at it uncomprehendingly.

'Look Kedra…I sort of work for a group of people called the Harpers.  They've been watching you, and I guess they think you'd make a good member…they asked me to ask you if you wanted to join us."  She then gave a dumb remark, similar to the one that I'd made when Dove asked me.

       "But, Raine…I don't play the harp."  I shook my head, and laughed.

"No Kedra…they're not musicians…they're just a bunch of people who do good, and look out for people who try to cause evil and stop them."

                      "Well…ain't that what we already do?"  She asked.

"Yes, but…by working for the Harpers, we have more ways to get information, and more people to call for back up when we need it," I explained.

"Well…if it's good enough for y, it's good enough for me," Kedra declared, and she took the pin.

"Oh…Kedra, the Harpers are a kind of secret group, so it won't do to have you telling everyone about it, or wearing your pin so openly."

"Oh," she quickly refastened the pin so that it was hidden under her tunic.

I gave her a quick rundown on the others stuff I knew of the Harpers, then explained to her what they'd asked us to do.  She grinned widely when I mentioned the Cult of the Dragon, and caressed the edge of her axe, Apocalypse, lovingly.

"Aye, I'm ready to go after them Cult bastards…after what they did to Takklinn and Isis…" she growled.  

"Go get the others then, and we'll asked them along…mind that you don't say anything about the Harpers though."  Kedra nodded, and stomped off.

Then I suddenly realized what I'd done…I'd committed myself to going after the Cult, without a thought for the fact that I should be staying here and waiting for my parents.  But I couldn't go back on my word, nor could I force myself to turn down the first assignment that the Harpers had really given me.  But that meant riding down to Sembia…and fighting the Cult…and I could hardly ask Tristain to wait to get our parents until I returned…who knew how long it would take to deal with the Cult this time?  And the Cult of the Dragon had a history of nearly killing me…what if I died for good this time?  What if I got hurt while Tristain was on his way back to Archendale?  

So I came up with a plan.  It was simple enough, and it would have to be enough.  First, I wrote a letter to my parents...it was fairly short, explaining what I'd gone to do and why I felt it was necessary…it would be given to them when they got to the keep.  Second, I wrote a note to Andar, and gave it to Captain Takklinn.  Basically, in it, I asked that should word come from the Harpers that I was dead; Takklinn was to give the letter to Andar.   The letter stated that Andar was to use some of the money in one of my treasure rooms and have me brought back, as I'd brought Gull back.  I didn't really like the idea of cheating death a second time…I didn't even know if it could be done…still…if there was a chance, I would have Andar do it…for Tristain's sake, and my parents as well.  I did not want Tristain to suffer again, as he had before, and I really did want to see my parents again, despite my apprehensions.

Finally, I decided to have one of my better-trained men go down to Archendale with Tristain, to keep him safe.

Needless to say, the party was hot for the idea of going after the Cult of the Dragon again…our wounds were healed, but not our pride…on the other hand, Tristain and Andar were not happy about the idea at all.  Tristain complained that he'd just found me…and he didn't want to leave me again…especially not so soon.  I tired to explain to him that the others and I were the best choice for the job, but he crossed his arms, and told me to let someone else do it.  He was being entirely unreasonable…I had to do this…so, I told him that it would take him a few days to get to Archendale, and a few more days to gather up our parents and bring them back here.  I explained that it probably would take me that long to complete the task before me, and that I might even be back before they returned.  When it became clear to him that I was not going to stay put, as he wanted to, Tristain grudgingly gave in.  I think he wanted to go with me, but there was no way I was going to lead my brother into a den of evil, like the Cult of the dragon…there was no way he was prepared for something like that, and I would spend more time worrying over him than paying attention to the matter at hand.  

            Andar on the other hand was more vocal about his displeasure.  I'd only been back a day…how could I leave again so soon…what about your brother…we haven't had a chance to talk…etc, etc…  I didn't really want to leave again so soon…and I did want to talk with him…but I couldn't…I had to go after the Cult before they tried to attack my keep again.  There was no way I could let that happen.  With Gull here, and Dazelin back on this plane, I knew that the keep would be in good hands, but Andar didn't want to hear it.  Finally, his cheeks flushed with anger, he stalked off, in the direction of the fields.  I sighed.  I really wanted to go after him…and I hated the idea of having to leave…but I had to.  Yeah, I know, I didn't really have to do anything but…all the same…it was the choice I made.  If Andar really loved me, he'd wait…and if not…well…I don't really want to think about that prospect at this point, let alone write about it.


	4. 4

We left the keep by noon, riding at a fair clip towards Sembia. We reached the city of Saerloon, some 5 days later.  Sembia was rather more different than I was used to, as the city was huge and sprawling, unlike the smaller Ashabenford, or even like the neatly set out Caer Callidyr.  It seemed like all the people in Sembia were fair-skinned, and human, which did seem to make most of the party seem out of place, and we were given openly hostile looks as we rode through the town in search of an inn.  We did find an inn quickly enough, and the owner, who seemed surly enough, brightened quickly at the sight of gold coin.  We each had a bit to eat, then decided to get things moving as quickly as possible…that meant getting information.  Of the party, we decided that Guar and Kedra would be the hardest to disguise, and so they agreed to stay behind at the inn.  The use of a magic spell of change turned my crimson hair a plain brown, blunted the points of my half-elven ears, and changed the shape and hue of my eyes until I looked like a regular human girl from the area.  Dayton and Aiyana would have little enough trouble, seeing as they were both human to begin with.  Then there was Ranearal…the elf was determined to go out and find out what information her could, but didn't seem to want to bother with a disguise…we could not dissuade him, so we let him go, and warned him not to make mention of the Cult of the Dragon in any way.  

Dayton went north in the city, searching for the taverns and such, while I went south, towards the slums and the dockside bars.  Aiyana stated that she would fly to the forest and fields nearby and seek to discover what the animals might have seen…then changed herself into a hawk, and literally flew away.  

I didn't have to look long or very hard to find the sort of people I was looking for…my own…the thieves and street rats that existed in any sort of major city.  Seeing as my last set of clothing was looking a bit raggedy, I didn't even have to find a suitable disguise, as I fit right in.  I quickly discovered that it didn't matter the difference in climate, position or speech…the language of the street was always the same, and I spoke it fluently.  A few coins, and few questions and I had the answers I needed…and a few new allies to boot…I was to find a man down at the dockside…an old sailor with one eye, named Farrell.  He knew the most of the mysterious arch, and would talk for the price of a drink that wasn't the pigswill the taverns usually served.

I sought him out by the time night fell, and wandered up to his table…to find that Ranearal had just sat down with the sailor, and was trying, unsuccessfully to pry information from the old man.  I wondered how in the hells that bookish, Ranearal had managed to find his way here, and vowed to find out once we were through with the sailor.  I slid into the seat beside Ranearal.  The sailor looked up…he was definitely older...or at least a life at sea had made him look so.  There was the classic patch across one eye…he was gnarled and dirty looking, but there was a gleam of intelligence that burned brightly in his one good eye.

"Lotta company tonight, I see," he muttered in a hoarse, sea-salt voice that reminded me of Gull.  I slid a flask, and a pouch over to him.

"Got a few questions for you…about an arch."  The man uncapped the flask, sniffed at the contents…a bit of Moonshaes moonshine…it was good that I'd recently found a local merchant in Ashabenford who imported it, or else I don't know what I would have done…

"Ahh…now this be good stuff…not like the horse piss you serve here, you tight-fisted woman!"  The man shouted at the bar keep…who pointedly ignored him.  He took a swig, and looked back at us.

"So ye're both wantin' to know about the arch is it?  Or is it the Cult o' the Dragon, what put the arch there ye're wanting to hear about?"  

"Both," Ranearal stated curtly, in his prissy elven voice. I shot him a glare, telling him to shut up…we'd not got the information we needed by having him screw things up.

"Well, I'll tell ye what I know…I didn't see it appear…but I saw the people around it…chanting away, all dressed wizardly like, casting some sort of mischief.  I know the type…I was out in me boat at the time, and kept outta sight by some rocks…the arch is out by the water, y'see.  Then, the arch glows a bit, and they calls something out of…I knew what it was right away…saw a flash of blue…and a set of wings big enough to sink a fleet of fishing boats…I up sailed an got away afore it saw me…but it were a dragon...and them wizards…they were Cult…I know it as I know my name…I've had a run in with'em afore, y'see."

                                  "A dragon…blue, you say?"  I asked.

                                                   "Aye," he nodded.

                          "Did you see anything else?"  Ranearal asked.

                            "Ask a question, an' I'll give ye an answer."

                                   "Where did the dragon go?"  I asked.

                        "It took to the air, and flew off…easterly I think."

                                          "Where did the wizards go?"       

"Didn't see?"

"Did they go back through the portal?"  Ranearal demanded.  The man gave the elf a baleful look.

                                                                  "Said, I didn't see…but likely they didn't, as the arch thingy didn't glow again."

                                                                  "The Cult of the Dragon," I whispered.  "Are they known to be especially active in the area?"

                                      "From time to time…but not as of late."

      "And do you know of anyone around here who might have connections to the Cult?"  I pressed.  He nodded slowly.

      "I can give ye a few names…"  And he did…a list of seven names…all merchants rumored to be involved with the Cult.

      "Is there anything else you can tell us?"  I asked.  He shrugged.

      "Depends on what you want to know."  I could think of no more questions, and when I looked to Ranearal, he merely shrugged his shoulders.  So, we thanked the man, rose, and departed.  Once outside, I quickly asked Ranearal how he'd found the way here.  He explained that money spent in Sembia went a long ways towards making "friends" with information, even for an outlander like himself…however, he groused, those "friends" didn't come cheap.  

      Wanting to get everything over as quickly as possible, we decided to visit the names on the list and see what we could get out them…besides, I figured…a group like the Cult of the Dragon probably didn't keep normal day time hours.

      Using the same spell as before, I subtly altered my appearance again, and this time added and illusion of a tattoo of the Cult, back on my arm, where it had once been.

      We struck gold on the first try.  The merchant's shop was closed, but he answered to a sharp knock on the door.  We didn't even have to speak, just showed him the symbol, and he turned into a shaking coward.  He quickly sputtered out that he'd made his payment tow days ago…he swore it.  We were careful…or at least I was, about getting information out of him…Ranearal remained silent, thankfully.  I didn't want him to know that we weren't actually members of the Cult, and warn them.  So I spun him a story of a traitor to the Cult, and how the Cult was carefully watching everyone.  The man practically shook himself into a grave of fear.  We basically managed to learn that he made payments to the Cult…for "protection," once a month.  A courier would come to pick it up, but didn't know where it went.  Unfortunately, he'd just made his payment two days ago…no help to us.  

      So we continued down the list…every name but one proved to be true…until we found one merchant who was due to make his payment in two days from now.  We warned him that we would be watching…and that if anything went wrong…if he said anything to anyone…there would be "consequences."  

      By the time we'd finished, it was nearing the middle of the night, so Ranearal and I returned to the inn.  Guar and Kedra were still there, but Dayton and Aiyana had yet to return.  Morning came, and with it messages from both Aiyana, and Dayton…messages of the magical variety.  Dayton was currently camping out in a sheep pasture within eyesight of the arch.  An old farmer had lead him there, and he'd learned that a dragon…green in hue, had been sighted near the arch…if both tales were true, that put the dragon count at two.  Then yet another message…this one carried by a bird, arrived…from Aiyana.  She'd learned, from the animals, the same tale of robes people surrounding the arch as we had, as well as confirmed the sighting of a green dragon.  However, she had a new piece to add…upon scouring the land around the arch, she discovered one very unusual set of tracks…small, and thin…draconic feet…but it was as thought they'd been made of a creature comprised solely of bone.  A dracolich…that was my immediate guess, and I informed the others of such.  So that put the count at three...two living dragons and one dead.  I sent a message back to them; also via a magic spell that Lord Wolcott had taught me…informing them of what Ranearal and I had learned.  We decided that Ranearal and I would remain in town and try to take hold of the courier and learn more about what was going on, while Guar and Kedra would head out to stay with Dayton, so that they could keep a thorough watch on the arch…just in case anything should come out.  Aiyana, we told, was to head east, and ask if anyone or anything up there had seen where the blue dragon might've gone.  Then we put the plan into action.

      Two days later, there'd been nothing stirring at the arch, nor had Aiyana found anything on any of the dragons who'd come through the portal.  Ranearal and I spent the day at a tavern across the street from the house of the merchant in question…watching.  It was nearly dusk when the messenger arrived…he was a young, average looking Sembian…he went in, then a moment later came out, now carrying a purse.  Using invisibility spells, Ranearal and I took off in pursuit of the man.  Now, I don't really know why it was that Ranearal had chosen to accompany me, but I guessed that maybe it was because he wanted to see it out.  We caught up with the courier in an alley, and watched as he glanced around and moved a stone.  An opening appeared in the wall, and he stuffed the purse in.  Before he could leave, however, Ranearal and I jumped him, and knocked him out.  Out of curiosity…and spite perhaps, I removed the payment from its hidden alcove, and left a note in its place, warning the Cult to find a better hiding place.

      We took the courier out of the city…out to where the others were…he remained unconscious for the entire trip.  Once out there, and well away from anywhere he could run, we woke him up and began to question the man.

      Unfortunately…he knew almost nothing important.  He didn't even realize that he'd been working for the Cult of the Dragon, but merely had agreed to be a courier to make some extra money.  He was shaking, and on the verge of crying the whole time, since I've no doubt that we terrified him…especially Guar, who had a habit of looking menacing, even when he wasn't trying to be.  The only thing of use her had to tell us, was that he was paid by the same man, in the same place every time…some five days from now.  So, we decided to continue with our watch on the arch...and if nothing happened within five days, Ranearal and I would return to town, and seek out the man who paid the courier, hoping he might have what we needed.  

      Needless to say, I wasn't happy about all the waiting…all things considered, I don't think it could take more than a ten day, or one and half for my parents to get back to my keep, and at this rate, they'd arrive to find that I wasn't there.  What a mess.

      During the five days, Ranearal informed us that he had a spell that would allow him to discover how the portal worked…we all agreed that he should try to discover what he could.  The spell worked as well as we'd hoped, but there proved to be a hitch.  Ranearal learned that the way to open the portal, and where it went…which was somewhere beyond the Sea of Fallen Stars…however, one of the things required to open it was a "divine force."  Whether that meant a cleric or not, we didn't know…and though we could've tried to open it then, we decided to wait until the five days were up, or until something else came though…whichever came first.

      Five days came first, and on that day, Ranearal, the courier, and myself we'd kidnapped…and held captive the entire time, returned to town.  We released the courier, on the order that he go about his business as though nothing had happened…and meet with his contact as usual…but we warned him not to mention us…"or else."

      Once again, the meeting was at night…it went off without a hitch, and Ranearal and I waited, invisible once more, for the contact to emerge.  He did after a bit, and we followed him into yet another alley.  It was a dead end, however, and just as I was wondering where he meant to go, the man put his hands up to the wall, murmured a few words, knocked an intricate pattern, and the wall glowed for a moment.  The man stepped through what seemed to be like stone, but apparently wasn't, and vanished.  Ranearal and I quickly ran up, but to no avail, for the wall was once again solid stone.  Now, I remember how the knock went, but I hadn't been able to hear the words he'd said…nor had Ranearal.  However, upon guessing that this was also a portal of some type, Ranearal again cast his diving spell…I must admit, wizards can be far more useful than they initially seem.

      He figured out everything we needed to open the door…including that it opened out somewhere underground…and we might've gone through, but decided that, on the better than average chance that there was a large group of Cultists on the other side, that we'd better have back up…and so I sent another message to Dayton and the others, telling them to join us as soon as possibly.  Since we knew it would take them a couple of hours to get there, I left for a bit, and found a place where I could send a regular message.  Deciding that, in case something happened, the Harpers should know what was going on, I sent two messages to Dove.  One disclosed the names of the men that we discovered who were working for…or at least paying off the Cult, and the other consisted of the information on the dragons, and instructions of how to open each portal.  I sealed them, and paid enough money as a bribe to make certain that they were not opened, and that they got where I wanted them to go.  Since I did not know where I could fins Lady Dove, I sent the letters to Lord Walcott, assuming that he would forward them.  

      On the way to the alley, I gave into the urge that had been itching at me since we'd arrived in the city…and picked some pockets.  The merchants in Sembia were even fatter and seemingly richer than the ones in the Moonshaes, and I couldn't resist…besides, they were drunk, and hopelessly easy marks. I ran into the same group of halflings, who also seemed to be working the area, twice.  They either didn't notice me, or didn't mind that I was in their territory, since they hardly even looked at me as I passed. 

      I only made one mistake, but being invisible saved me…as I got the feeling that the punishment for theft in Sembia was far harsher than it had been back home.  All in all, when I arrived back at the alley, I was nine heavy purses richer.

      The others arrived quickly…disguised by an illusion of horses pulling a wagon of farming goods, instead of themselves.  We decided to try the portal immediately.

      Ranearal's spell worked true, for the minute he spoke, and finished the knocking, the portal glowed again, and we all stepped through.  There was a brief moment when it felt like I was falling, then disorientation…then cold.  And I found myself standing in a large open room, underground, with the rest of the party…and we were all completely naked…and there was no sign of our gear anywhere.  There was a door on the far wall, which seemed to be the only way out...and we approached it cautiously.  Most of the party didn't seem bothered by their current lack of attire, except for Kedra who blushed fiercely.  Both she and Aiyana used their long hair to cover up as much of their skin as they could, but I saw no need to.  Listening at the door, we heard the sound of voices…men, wondering where all "this stuff" had come from.  The door was fortunately unlocked, as it seemed that even the lock picks I usually his in my braid had vanished as well.

      We opened the door, and Ranearal was about to cast a spell…until he remembered that he had no components…so we decided to merely rush whoever was within, and knock them out.  There were three men, all picking through our things…so I decided to distract them while the others got ready to attack.  Since they were men, the distraction part was easy…I merely walked up, and stepped out of the shadows.  I don't even think they so much as glanced at my face before their eyes dropped and fastened on my naked chest…I still have no idea why breasts seem to fascinate men so.  While they were standing there, dumbfounded, the rest of the party rushed in.  To make a short story even shorter…we knocked the stuffing out of them in three seconds flat.  We tied them up and gagged them, then recovered our clothing and gear. 

      There was another door, and it led to a hall with a series of rooms, which we began to methodically check.  We found more guards, sleeping quarters, and a couple of nasty looking undead…things, that we were forced to attack.  Whatever they were was rather nasty, for when one caught hold of me…its touch reminded me of the lich's touch…I could feel something in it draining the energy from me, before I managed to break away.  Thankfully, Guar stepped up and beat it back to bones and dust.   

      After wandering a bit more through the place, and killing a few more worthless undead, we came upon a strange room filled with smoke and heat, coming from deep red pools.  The smoke was so thick that I began to cough, as did the others.  It wasn't until we were halfway through the room that Ranearal shouted a warning…too late.  I looked up to where he was pointing to see a set of glowing red eyes in the very thickest part of the smoke…and the smoke we were breathe seemed to become claws, tearing at our lungs and skin.  Kedra and Guar fell to their knees in hacking agony, but apparently, whatever the creature was, it could not battle all of us at once.  The rest of us attacked, slicing the thought the smoke with our weapons…Ranearal pelting magic at it.  While the blades themselves seemed to do little enough harm, the magic enchantments on the weapons did more.  After several long minutes of attack the creature vanished as though it had been no more than normal smoke.  Guar and Kedra weren't looking so hot, but Guar used a few healing spells which seemed to help.

      At the far end of the room there was a door set into the wall, but as we approached, I saw the obvious trap…there were five glyphs blatantly displayed on the door, which I just knew were magical.  Now I'm fairly good at taking out most forms of traps, but when it comes to magic…lets just say that I know better…usually.  So I called to Ranearal, who shuffled up, and asked him to try to dispel the magic on the door, for there was no way that I was laying a hand on the damned thing until I knew it was safe.  So he cast a dispelling spell, and proclaimed the door safe.  Cautiously I reached for the lock…and it was locked.  It took me a few moments to figure out how the locking mechanism worked, and a few more to get the lock open…I guess that even that small amount of time was far too long…damn that Ranearal…he never said that I had a time limit.  Just as I heard the lock click open, the glyphs glowed brightly, the color of the hottest part of metal being forged…and then the room, quite literally, began to explode with magic.  Now, I should have taken the full force of the powerful magic, but I am very, very quick…even more so, now with the magical headband I'd won in the contest.  So I managed to jump to the side as the glyphs began to explode…unfortunately that left the rest of the party to get hit.  First came a fireball, which only some of the managed to dodge…and even then, they only managed to get to the sides, and not in the detonation zone.  Then a lightning bolt…next was a strange spell that I couldn't see, but I felt the tingle of it across my skin…trying to take effect, but I managed to shrug it off.  There was another bolt of lightning after that, and a finally, a cloud of foul-smelling gas filled the room.  It made me cough, but again, the affects didn't seem to take hold…on me, or on any of the others.  When everything cleared, I found that all of the party, save for Aiyana, were still standing…albeit wounded…some of them badly.  Guar quickly used his most powerful spell on Aiyana, which probably saved her life, as she appeared to have been hanging onto it by a mere thread.  I, meanwhile, flung the door open and held it against the wall…just in case.  There proved to be nothing living in the room…only a large circle of runes and symbols carved on the stone floor.  The trapped door was the only way into or out of the room, and it locked from the inside as well as from the outside.  Seeing as we were all doing pretty poorly, and Guar was running low on spells, we decided to take a breather there for a while.  Keeping a close watch on both the door and the circle, the whole time.

      While we rested, Ranearal had time to examine the circle, and proclaimed that it was a teleportation circle, and not some sort of nasty summoning circle, as several of the others had initially feared.  The word to activate, he said, was actually written among the runes, but he had no way of knowing where it went, since it was not a portal.  Since we'd found no other way into or out of the complex we were in, and had yet to find the man that Ranearal and I had followed down into the alley, we decided to try out the circle, this time being ready, just in case something similar to before should happen again…i.e., appearing naked with no gear in sight.  Fortunately enough, nothing happened this time…we appeared on a beach area, surrounded by water on three sides, looking up at a fair-sized, white-stone manor.  There were two guards standing at the doors of the manor, who did not seem at all disturbed or fazed at our sudden arrival.  There were no landmarks to give us any idea where we were, except for that we knew we were somewhere on the Sea of Fallen Stars, owing to the fact that the color of the water was different from that of the Sea of Swords.  Having little better to do, we went up to the manor…and immediately discovered why it was that the guards had not been surprised…they probably couldn't feel anything anymore…seeing as they were dead…or rather, undead.  Their faces had holes, and their skin was the hue of death.  Yet they made no offensive actions towards us, rather, they opened the doors as we approached.  Undead doormen?  I shuddered.  There was just something innately creepy about the very thought, let alone the reality.

      Rather than causing a scene, we decided to leave the undead things alone, and perhaps come back to destroy them later…we entered the manor.  Straightaway, I noticed that it was a fairly pretty building…the climate was warm, wherever we were, and the whole house was opened to the air.  There were huge, arched doorways, and windows that reached high up to the ceiling.  There were at least two, possibly three stories, and long hallways made of cool, swirled marble.  However, at first glance the building seemed empty…as if it had been recent, however.  There were spots of cleanliness among large areas of dust,…faded places on the walls, as though painting and furniture had once filled the room before us, and had been recently removed.  Whoever had lived in this house had left in a hurry. So we began to go throw the building, room, by room.  We certainly found some interesting…things in the rooms…most consisting of various forms of undead creatures.  Most of those, skeleton-like things, and ghouls and such we had little enough trouble defeating.  Guar's priestly abilities, and the holy enchantments that many of the party members, including myself, had on our weapons took down undead in just a few hits.  Then we ran into the…demons, for lack of a better word for them.  They were these large, hideous, dog-looking things, with dark skin and long claw hands…and they absolutely radiated evil, albeit not quite on the level that Saldenon's uncle had.  We brought our weapons up, ready to fight, when an arrow streaked out from behind us, striking the demon-thing square in the chest.  To my utter shock, the thing keeled over, dead as a rock, then dissipated into a grayish mist a moment later.  We all turned to see Aiyana, lowering her bow.  She grinned and informed us that one of the things she'd won while betting at the contest in Acheron was a sheath of arrows that worked particularly well against demons.  So the rest of the same demons we found scattered throughout the house were less than a challenge.  Now, we found a few important things hidden behind walls, and beneath floorboards in every room that had a demon in it.  First we found a bow, then a pair of scimitars, a bag containing three sparkly stones, a rather strange mace that had something inside of it that seemed to shift the balance of weight, and finally, a sword, which we quickly learned that no one but Ranearal could draw, with the elven word, "Scalecarver" on it.   It was in a desk, in one of the last rooms we had to check, that we found an explanation, not only for the strange weapons, but for what was going on with the arches and everything.  We first found a letter, and I read it quickly, out loud so that we wouldn't waste more time than was necessary.  It read as follows,

            To whoever finds this letter,

            I have been trying to sabotage the plans of the Cult of the Dragon for years now.  I have situated myself within their ranks and am a respected mage of their order.  However, my fears, and the fears of those I truly work for are about to come true.  Months ago clerics of Velsharoon, Cyric, and Bane, began to get strange dreams of the founder of the Cult, Sammaster.  The Cult believes these dreams are prophetic, indicating Sammaster's prophecies are coming true now, this being the Year of Rogue Dragons, by the calendar of Harptos.  

            To help stop this I have hidden several weapons within this mansion.  These items were taken off of dead adventurers, and are useful in battling the undead, and dragons that the Cult uses.  First, is a pouch containing 3 small glowing stones, these are Starburst stones, when launched or thrown they fly unerringly at the intended target and blast through anything in the way. Be careful when using these.  Second, there is a pair of scimitars made from the claws and teeth of a Shadow dragon named Murharadace, these weapons are best when used together and highly effective against dragons. These scimitars have been named Tooth and Claw. There is a mace secreted way that is devastating against undead.  Bearing the symbol of the Judge of the Dead, Kelemvor, this mace is specially made, with quicksilver and iron filings in the head of the weapon.  My studies of the mace, have given me the name of the mace, Release.  A shortbow that belonged to the half-elven ranger Sturling Eaglestar, is hidden in one of the rooms, it has incredible range, and is devastating to dragons.  Also, Sturling's Shortbow can make greater slaying arrows only three times a day, of any creature.  The last weapon I have hidden for you, oh heroes, is the elven longsword Scalecarver, this weapon seeks dragon flesh hungrily.  However, only on of the elven race may draw Scalecarver from its black dragon hide sheath.

            Be warned that the Cult has placed guardians in the places I have hidden these weapons, for I believe that they suspect whom I truly work for.  The beasts are demons from the abyss, called Nalfeshnee.  They are horrible creatures that are a cross between an ape and a boar, so be careful.

May Oghma Protect you.

     And then, at the end of the letter, was a very familiar symbol…one that both Kedra and I wore, shaped in silver, beneath our clothes.  So that was how the Harpers had know the Cult was involved in what…

      Beneath the letter, there was a sheaf of papers…the papers explained the basics of the Cult's plot, and it was a winner.  I bet my face turned two shades paler by the time I was done looking them over.  Basically, what the Cult meant to do was to fulfill some prophecy of their founder, a real wacko named Sammaster.  It went something along the line of "and naught will be left save shattered thrones, with no rulers.  But the dead dragons shall rule the world entire…"  So the plan was that the arches would be activated, and the armies that the cult had manage to mass, humans and dragons both, would march through, kill the rulers of various kingdoms throughout the world, and…shudder…then the dracoliches would rule the empty throne.  Dracoliches…that word is bad enough in the singular, but in the plural form, the very idea is enough to make me want to tuck tail and run…however, there is those damnable "good" urges that I feel compelled to obey.  And of course, it wasn't just the one arch in Sembia…according to those papers, there were arches set up throughout the world…in places I'd never heard of, like Thay, Aglarond, Silverymoon, and even more…and there were arches in places I had heard of…like Cormyr, Waterdeep, Calimport, and an island near the Moonshaes.  Definitely not good…and of course, I realized that any attack that would be done on such a massive scale would have to have an equally massive army to go along with it…and we were only six people…I figured we would definitely need help...and more help than I could possibly get to stop this.  So I sent a message, this one of the magical variety to Dove, and I prayed that she would be able to act quickly.  It took me two spells to convey all of the necessary information to Dove…and I had no way of knowing if it reached her, or if she understood it…but I tried.  

      The papers also explained that the arches were not yet active, and that a coming event would create the "divine power" that would be necessary to do so…so there was still time.  As long as the gates weren't truly active yet, we had a chance to stop whatever was going to happen.  But that meant following the trail, and going to wherever the Cult was going to perform their "creation," instead of going home, and pretending this was all just a bad dream, like any sane, normal person would do.  Fortunately for the rulers of all those kingdoms, and unfortunately for the Cult of the Dragon, I'm not normal, and Gull frequently informed that I was lacking both sanity and common sense…because we made the choice to continue on rather than to go back.  

      So armed with the new weapons we'd found…somehow I ended up with the bow, ever though I prefer melee weapons, we searched the last room in the house, to find a large mirror…and that miserable, evil, conniving, rotted, bloody damned, thrice-cursed, bitch of a lich, who'd dared to try to take my keep…waiting for us.  She grinned as we entered, not even trying to disguise who she was, and before we had a chance to so much as raise our weapons, she leapt through the mirror.   Guar, enraged, charged after her, followed closely by Kedra…once they'd disappeared, it left the rest of us no choice but to follow.  I had the presence of mind to decide to have try to keep a way back, should we need it, and I tied a rope to a torch sconce next to the mirror, before diving through myself.  Beyond the mirror were more mirrors…a veritable maze of mirrors, in fact.  We could see the lich further in, and gave chase, only to find that we could not run, for danger of slamming into glass.  So we carefully picked our way through the maze…and I must say, that while I have never seen my entire reflection at one time, I grew weary of looking at myself after about half an hour.  Then, we reached a relatively large, open room in the maze…somewhere in the middle, I assumed.  The lich was at the other end, and grinned toothily at us…a rather disgusting facial gesture from one who has no lips.  But before we could give chase, a strange thing happened.  From a large mirror, directly to the side of us, our reflected images seemed to step out of the mirror.  At first I thought it a trick of the light, and then a trick of the lich's, but as our doubles drew their weapons, their actions independent from our own, I realized that there was something more sinister at work here.  The other party grinned, and I felt the evil and maliciousness in their expressions…and about then was when I realized that we were in big trouble.

      They attacked, using our own movements against us.  Guar took off straight for his "twin," while Aiyana, Dayton, and Ranearal did likewise.  I had a second to think that if these were us, down to freckles and weapons, that they would know how to fight us as well as we knew ourselves.  With that thought in mind, I exchanged a glance with Kedra, who nodded…and the two of us switched places, leaving me to fight the other Kedra, and her to fight the other Raine.  Now, I did well enough at first, but the evil Kedra had that same damnable hammer, and two hits with that thing left me reeling, gasping for breath, as I was sure the little bitch had broken ribs.  A glance to my left showed that Kedra was not faring well either.  So we switched tactics again.  Momentarily, we ignored the other Raine, and focused all our attacks on the other Kedra.  It worked, and I nearly cut the dwarf's body in half, even as the good Kedra took her double's head off with one swing from her axe, Apocalypse.  

      Then, the other Raine cut into Kedra and I…until I could hardly stand, from the pain…I felt even worse that when we'd fought the lich…an event which seemed much longer ago than it really was.  I saw that Kedra too, was about to drop…one more hit from the evil version of myself would be all it would take to kill either one of us…and I knew I was fast with those damned blades…and we'd hardly scratched her.  I had a second to think of what I wanted to do...attack, swords flying, and pray for the best…then, rather than doing that, I flung my blades down, and drew the bow…the magical bow we'd found in the house.  I remembered what the unnamed Harper had said of the bow…that one of its abilities was to create arrows that could slay any creature, three times a day…bearing that thought in mind, I drew back the cord, and prayed to my gods that the bow would consider me a creature…and released an arrow, using the command word, and aiming at my double.  The arrow struck true, and pierced her chest…the wound normally would have been bad, but as soon as the arrow lodged, my double's skin lost all color, and she tumbled to the ground, dead as a lich without a phylactery.  Wearily, Kedra and I turned to see how our fellows were fairing.  We looked just in time to see Dayton and his double stab each other at the same time, and both of them fell over…dead or unconscious.   The Ranearals were tangled up in some sort of web spell, but had managed to work their hands free and were casting and counter-spelling spells at each other, neither of them so much as scratched.  Aiyana looked pretty hurt, but in a smart move, she summoned a column of fire and holy energy down on her double…the other wasn't fast enough, or had, perhaps been expecting a physical strike, and was thus fried as crisply as Mr. Chitters had been…okay, bad memory.  Guar was holding his own against the other Guar, and indeed, seemed to be doing well.  Kedra moved towards Dayton, a potion in her hand…I hoped that she would wake up the right one.  I turned and focused my bow on Ranearal's double.  I was able to tell the difference, because, as these were our mirror images, the hands were reversed.  Ranearal is right hand dominate, so I shot at the one who seemed to be using his left hand to lead the spells.  My first shot only nicked him, so the slaying affect did not happen, but he turned ever so slightly to look at me, to see where the attack had come from.  That was when Ranearal seized his opportunity…he cast a fireball, and centered in on his double.  The other Ranearal when up in smoke...fortunately, they'd been far enough apart that our Ranearal wasn't harmed.  That left Guar.  I turned to see Guar and his opponent stumble at the same time, and lose their weapons.  Rather than retrieve his, our Guar, who was in full Tempus-spawned rage, heaved up the headless corpse of the evil Kedra, and made ready to hurl it at his opponent.  The other Guar, however, took the cue, and grabbed our Kedra, and lifted her over his head, despite her protests and squirming.  Not wanting Kedra to take any more damage, which might potentially kill her, considering how strong Guar is, I dropped the bow, and took up my cutlass.  With his arms raised, the other Guar had no defense against me.  I took aim, and stabbed.  The point of my cutlass exited through his throat with a splash of blood.  I jerked my sword back out, and he fell, bonelessly to the ground, Kedra landing atop him.  She just managed to roll out of the way as our Guar began to pummel his double into a bloody pulp.  He only stopped and began to calm when the bodies of our mirror images vanished, leaving nothing but ourselves and the smears of our own blood behind.

      I collapsed to the ground beside Kedra with the softest whimper.  I could scarcely manage more than that.  I was hurt…badly.  Fortunately, Guar came to his senses, and cast healing spells on most of the party. Unfortunately, he was unable to heal us completely, and he warned us, that if he tried to do so, the healing magic would probably cause more harm than good.  The only remedy would be rest.

      It was a hard decision, but we decided that we would have to wait to go after the lich.  Kedra immediately fell asleep, and I wasn't long in following.  We made certain to set up watches, though, and to be ready, in case we were attacked again.

      Apparently, though, one set of doubles is all that we had to fight in whatever place we were, for nothing and no one bothered us for the rest of the time we were there.  We rested for a full day, it taking that long to heal enough that we felt confident enough to continue.  

      I quickly discerned the path that the lich had taken to exit the strange place of mirrors, and we reached a rather unremarkable mirror at the end, that lead into a dark room.  Cautiously, we stepped through, and Ranearal cast a spell of light.  We found ourselves in a circular stone room, that was completely empty, but for the mirror, and a door.  We moved for the door, and peeked out.  There was bright sunlight, and as we exited what was apparently a tower, I could feel a distinct difference in temperature and climate.  Wherever we were, it was far more hot, and humid that Sembia.  But before we could puzzle our location out, we caught sight of a group of people, dressed in familiar robes and clothing styles, waiting for us, no doubt.  Maybe they were just meant to slow us down, or just to annoy us, but we cut through the five Cultists like a sharpened scythe through harvest-ready wheat.  I was almost disappointed, save for the fact that I knew we might potentially be facing a phenomenally larger group soon enough.  We took their things, which included the usual Cult weapons, an unusual dragon shaped ring, and a strange book, called the Tome of the Dragon.  Glancing at the inside of it, it appeared to be a manual on the practices and beliefs of the Cult.  Lovely bedtime reading…really.  Looking back at the tower, I saw that the stairs to the top were on the outside, rather than on the inside like my tower.  We climbed up top to see whatever there was to be seen.  To the north, we saw the glittering waters of a familiar sea…the sea of Fallen Stars…to the north…that meant wherever we were, it was no longer Sembia, Cormyr, the Dales or anywhere familiar, as the Sea would've been to the south.  To the south, there was a blackish space in the distance, a town.  So, with no better direction than back through the mirror, we decided to head that way…all except for Dayton.  I don't know what was up with him, but after everything he'd been through, he suddenly turned coward on us.  He refused to go further, and said that he would stay and guard the mirror, and wait in case the Harpers came through.  We tried to explain to him that we would need his help, but he was having none of it.  He would not come with us, and short of knocking him out and dragged him unwillingly; there was little we could do…so we left the coward there.  I was fuming.  I couldn't believe he was so willing to desert us…especially when he knew we would need all the help would could get.  I swear, if we manage to survive this, I know one yellow-striped, cowardly bard that can find himself anew job.  There was no sense in having people who weren't willing to fight or take chances with us.  Even Ranearal, who had apparently been friends with Dayton once, before they'd joined us, looked disgusted.  But as I said, there wasn't much we could do, so we left him there.

      It took us a few hours to reach the town.  It was a medium sized place, and had a large wooden wall around it.  Part of the wall looked as though there'd been an attack recently, and there were workers all over, fixing it.  Another thing I noticed was that the people of the area had a vastly different coloring than anyone I'd ever met, save for the girl from Calimport, back on the Moonshaes, many years ago.  They had dusky skin, and dark hair and eyes, and when the guards at the gate tried to question, even Ranearal, who knows more languages than I have cuts in my last set of clothes…and believe me, after the last two fights, that was no small number, understood what they were saying.  Ranearal finally shrugged and stated that normally he would be able to cast a spell, but he'd not memorized that spell for the day.  Kedra also couldn't help, but then I remembered my own, meager casting abilities, and that a Tongues spell, which would allow me to understand and speak any language for an amount of time, was among my repertoire.  So I cast it, and the strange language suddenly became clear.  After a bit of questions exchanged, and a small bit of bribery, the guards informed me that the city was called, Unthalass, they were Utherians, from the country of Unther, and a woman, who fit the description of the lich's cover up illusion had been seen a day ago, heading towards the tavern.  I thanked them and forked over the bribe, and we continued on our way.  About half way to the tavern, Kedra stopped and explained,

      "Now I know where we are!  Unther is on the other side of the Sea of Fallen Stars…almost straight across from home."  And I remembered having looked once at a map in Dazelin's house…remembered the size of the Sea of Fallen Stars…, which was so big that it could easily fit ten Moonshaes islands and more into it.  Great…just bloody, fucking, wonderful.  Even if the Harpers had gotten the message, there wasn't a great chance that they could possibly get enough people here in time for…whatever was going to occur…unless they already had people down here, aw well…which I prayed to Tymora was the case.

      So we went to the tavern, and got some rooms.  The others went to eat, and wash up, but I wanted to get things moving as quickly as possible, so I went back downstairs, and had a bit of a chat with the bartender.  He was more than willing to sell a bit of information for a small bribe, and the purchase of a drink.  He had seen the woman I described, but she'd left about half a day ago with some rather unusual friends.  He did not know where they'd gone, only that they'd moved off in the direction of the broken part of the wall, and he hadn't liked the look of them.  With that in mind, I decided to resort to my most familiar tactics.  So using the same spell of change self, to make myself appear to look more like the locals, I headed out to the streets, and began asking around among the street people for information.  I didn't finding anyone who knew where the woman had gone, but a rather weaselly…or actually, ratty looking, male thief, with greasy black hair told me that for the right price, and if I was willing to take a chance at danger, he knew of someone who would know what I was looking for.  No stranger to danger, I agreed, but on the condition that he wait a bit, so that I could go get a friend of mine.  He informed me that he would wait, but that if I brought more than one other person, he might feel "nervous."  

      So I went back to the inn to make my choice.  Had Dayton not turned coward, I might've taken him, for he was full human and would have required little in the way of a disguise…but that was not an option.  Guar and Kedra were also out for the reason that they were both overly hotheaded and not used to the finer skills of diplomacy and bartering…and there really was nothing, short of a major shape changing spell that could hide their true forms…and I hadn't seen any dwarves or half-orcs anywhere in town.  That left the choice between Aiyana and Ranearal…Aiyana was nowhere to be found, though, and frankly I'd rather have someone more powerful than a druid…who seems to be more at ease in the woods than a city, at my back.  So Ranearal won by default.  Besides, he hadn't done so badly before…and with a little creative magic and makeup, I could make him look like a fairly passable, if thin human…half-elf at the worst.  Bedsides, in a jam, I would rather have his magical abilities to toss fireballs, and teleport, than almost anything else.  Naturally, he agreed, thus proving himself of a different breed than his cowardly friend.  Now I might be being too hard on Dayton, but if he's the sort of bard who'd rather write music, live in comfort, and make a few gold along the way, fine…but he should never have joined an adventuring group like ours if he didn't think that danger was part of the package.  

      We used magic to hide Ranearal's ears, and change the shape of his eyes.  A bit of makeup darkened his golden skin tone, and a hood covered up anything else that might've been suspicious.  That done, we left to meet up with my contact.  

      The little man led us into an alley, and pried up a trap door.  It led down into the sewers of the city…natural, the fragrance, combined with the heat was enough to make me gag, but I believe I handled the situation well…I covered my nose and trudged onward, making a complete ruin of my pants…fortunately, the boots were magical, and as such, were easy enough to clean.  He took us down into tunnels that went even further beneath the city, until the air grew cool, and the stench of the sewer was left above.  Finally, he took us into a large, lit cavern, which was not empty as one would've thought.  There were people in the cavern…a great deal of them, but people the like of which I'd never seen.  There were small groups of men and women with a similar rat-like demeanor to our guide…and it occurred to me, that they were no mere humans.  Gull had told me some few stories about the main lands, and one of them had been that beneath the streets of many of Faerun's great cities were guilds of thieves that were no longer quite human…and much more dangerous.  These folk had the abilities to change shape…were creatures…were-rats to be exact, and my gut feeling was that I'd stumbled into a group of them…or rather been led there.  The other people, however, were more disturbing by far.  They consisted entirely of females, but like no women I'd ever met.  All had the upper torso, head and arms of a woman, but their lower halves…some had the body of a great-tawny cat…like a mountain lion, only not quite…while others had reptilian halves…like huge snakes.  

      "Lamia," Ranearal whispered to me, his eyes widening briefly.  "Be cautious, for they are very dangerous and very evil."  I nodded, and decided to keep my distance.  Fortunately, the people in the cavern were milling about, but after brief, disinterested, glances in our directions, they returned to whatever they'd been doing. 

      He led us to the far end of the cavern, to a small hall, that had a door at the end.  He knocked once, briefly, and the door opened.  A large, dark skinned man, like the locals, opened the door.  No words were exchanged, but the man beckoned us in.  With a glance and a shrug, Ranearal and I entered.  Inside was a room that resembled one huge, crimson cushion.  There were pillows and draperies of silk scattered everywhere, over a plush, red carpet that covered the stone floor.  Lounging about the room, with dull, vacant expressions, and empty eyes, were some of the prettiest men I'd ever seen.  They were mostly human, and mostly local, but exquisite in form…and they all looked about as interesting as watching grass grow.  Slaves, I figured…or at least under some sort of spell…then I caught sight of the caster.  She was one of the snake women, with a long tail of glistening green and brown patterned scales.  Her upper body was naked but for a fall of oil-black hair over one shoulder.  She was coiled up on a large pillow, and seated before a desk.  The door closed behind us.

      "Well…I hear you are looking for some information on a person who had recently passed though this city."

      "That we are," I replied, confidently, instinctively knowing that this was no the sort of creature to show weakness, of any form, to.  

      "May I ask why you seek her?"  The snake lamia thing asked.

      "She's a…friend of ours.  We thought we might look her up and have a bit of a chat, but she moves around a great deal," I lied easily.  Ranearal nodded affirmatively.  The woman smiled, a sly, knowing expression…

      "Indeed.  And what is this…friend's name?"                                                              

      "Well, it's hard to say, since she changes her name almost every time she changes a town.  The truth is, we really have no way of knowing what she's going by right now," I gave an apologetic shrug.

      "Well…it may be that I can help you…but the question is…how can you help me?"  Now came the deal.

      "Well…as I'm sure you know, my friend here, and I are not from around here…we can certainly pay you…but other than that…I'm afraid we wouldn't be of much help."

      "That is a good start…" the woman trailed off, waiting for my offer.  I reached for my bag, and behind us, I sensed her guard tense.

      "Your pardon, you don't mind if I get the payment from my bag, do you?"  I asked.  She waved her hand, gesturing for me to continue.  

      "Now, do you prefer gems, coins, or magic?"  I asked.  She raised an eyebrow.

      "Gems or magic…I'm sure coins aren't worth more than the gold value anyhow," she stated.  So I pulled out two beljuril…exquisitely cut and worth about 5,000 gold a piece, and set them on the table.  She glanced at them; smiled, and waited…I took that to mean she wanted more.  We ended up settling on the two beljurils, two magic swords we'd taken off the Cultists, and a magic cloak.  The upshot of that was that we ended up paying a bloody fortune for the information.

      "Your…friend and her associates bought some things from several of the local stores in the area, and went west, across the plains of black ash, to the smoking mountains."

      "The smoking mountains?"  Ranearal asked, speaking for the first time.  "Where are they?"  

      "Take the south gate out of the city, and follow the road to the river.  Then follow the river along the plains until you reach the mountain.  Your "friend" has rather a large group of "friends" herself, and as such, I'm certain you will be able to find her from there."  We ended up having her show us on a map where to go, as well.  We paid her fee, and then turned to leave, but before we could get out the door, she noticed that Ranearal shuddered at the sight of the several of the creatures "harem," seated near the door.

      "Are you certain you do which to stay and have a…meal with me?"  She asked us, with a nasty smile.

      "Um…no…we'll leave you to your…repast," Ranearal stated, avoiding her eyes.

      "Oh but are you quite certain you do wish to stay?"  She asked him directly.                 "After all, we have so few men like you in this area, sir elf…I'm certain we can make it worth your while…" she licked her lips in an entirely predatory manor.  Ranearal all but backed out of the room.

      "Uh…no, thanks…really…we'll be going…"  And he was out the door…I heard her laugh as the door closed behind us.  Then we had our guide get us back to the city as quickly as possible.

      We informed the others of what we'd found, immediately.  It only took a few minutes to pack everything up, and get moving.  We were working on the assumption that there was no time to waste, and so we left the city within an hour, Kedra complaining the whole time that she hadn't had enough ale to drink, while at the bar.  That's life…we all have to suffer for the greater good sometimes…but she merely grumbled at my logical reply.

      So we followed the lamia's directions exactly.  We reached the river nearly two days later, then turned to follow the trail, towards the mountains, which we could see looming closer.  

      We knew we were getting closer to wherever the Cult was hanging out when a dragon attacked us.  This one was brown in color, and shot up from the ground, where it had apparently been hiding.  Fortunately, it was a smaller dragon, and we'd all gotten fairly good at dragon-battle techniques.  Add to that the new weapons left for us by our Harper friend, and we took the beast down with party members taking only minor wounds, which were easily and quickly healed by Guar and a few of the healing potions we usually carried with us.  Since we could take the whole dragon with us, as we usually did, and I figured there would no doubt be more dragons later, we only took a few of the claws and teeth, and left the carcass for the scavengers.  

      We moved onward and not one hour later, we were attacked again, this time by something far larger, and far less intelligent than a dragon.  By large, I mean, bigger around and taller than my entire keep.  It was gargantuan, purple, and looked a great deal liked an over-sized earthworm with a stinger and an attitude.  The battle was easy, in that it hardly took any effort to hit the damn thing, seeing as it was certainly a big enough, bloody target.  The trouble came in that it seemed to shrug off most of our damage.  In the end, our best procedure was to be quick in staying out of its way and avoiding its stinger, and copper-and-silvering it death.  By the time we'd finished, and it fell…Guar just barely got out of the way from being crushed into a pile of mush…we were all hot and sweaty from fighting in the heat.  Still, we had no time to rest, and no choice but to continue.  We'd wasted too much time as it was…and there was no way I was going to let the Cult release a horde of undead dragons upon the lands…not while I was alive to stop it.  Of course, I am rather well aware that there is a better than average chance that I won't be coming out of this battle alive…and I guess I have to accept that…but I'm trying to think more of others than myself…I've got my family and friends to think about now.  If we failed here…if we, and the Harpers…or whatever help we could manage failed, and the Cult succeeded in its plan…my parents…my siblings…Gull, Daz…Andar…all of them would be in danger.  I can't allow anyone to hurt the people that I love…all right…yes…and bloody hells…I love them.  I suppose life was a lot easier before, living alone, being alone…being so damned certain that I didn't need anyone.  But now that I have them, I can't even think of giving them up.  I'd die for them…I know, I haven't even seen my parents yet, but my love for them as a child still holds true in my heart now.  I've got to take the chance.  I glanced at Kedra and Guar, and knew that they felt the same.  Both of them had people to go back to…people at home that they wanted safe.  I don't know as much about Aiyana and Ranearal, but I think that they are good people…they've held true against evil with us before, and they seemed determined.  We would take the chance or die trying…it was the best way...and frankly the only way, for me.  I'm not afraid of death…not anymore…but I am afraid of living, knowing I've failed the ones I love.  I won't have it…so we continued onward, and come what may, I swear, I won't falter.

      We arrived near the entrance to a huge cave sometime later.  We figured that it was the place since there were two guards standing, rather obviously out front.  Now, normally two guards wouldn't have been a problem, if they were giants.  They had darkish skin, and almost looked to be made of stone; and even giants wouldn't have been much of a problem…but as we approached, I heard Guar muttering some prayer under his breath…I heard the word "guidance."  A moment later, there was a look of fear on Guar…fearless Guar's…face.  He stopped in his tracks.

      "We must not go on…" he stated.

      "Why the hells not?"  Kedra demanded.

      "Danger…we must flee…too much…evil…"Guar shuddered.  Had I not been seeing it, I never would've believed it.  Guar was shaking…practically.  He…the great half-orc, who'd been a follower of Tempus before he'd undergone his strange change in faith to Lathlander,…was afraid.  On a side note, Andar claimed that it was the weird book of Lathlander I'd found in Myth Drannor that caused the change in Guar.  Andar said that he liked Chauntea well enough, and would not go near Guar's book; for all that Lathlander was a good god...that there was powerful godly magic at work.  If Guar had seemed unhappy about his change in beliefs, I would've done something about the book…but he hadn't…but now I was wishing that I had.  This was not the time for Guar to play the coward.  Apparently Kedra shared my belief, for she began to shame him into coming with us.

      "What are you afraid, Guar?"  The half-orc's face darkened…he did not like that.   The Kedra added the clincher.

      "What would Violet think?"  That was enough…Guar would not let anything stand in the way of the graces of his…lovely lady.  He pulled his mace loose, and began to walk towards the giants…who'd not quite noticed us yet.

      "Wait, wait, wait!" Ranearal exclaimed.  "Plan first!  Let's not make this more difficult than it has to be."  We turned to him…and I have to say, I always agree with having some sort of plan.  There was a gleam in Ranearal's eyes as he spoke.

      "How about I soften them up with a bit of fire and ice, then the rest of you can charge in and hack them to bits?"  I suppose Ranearal rather liked to cause havoc, like the rest of us do, on occasion…and he was rather fond of his spells of mass destruction, which he could use if the rest of the party was in close combat with the enemy.  So we let him have his fun.  We got closer to the giants…disgusting things…and Ranearal let loose with his magic, using his rather unusual warning phrase that he'd begun using to let the rest of us know of incoming spells.

      "Oatmeal!"  Ranearal shouted gleefully, even as the giants turned to regard us, and a ball of flame shot from the elf's fingers.  The fireball hit high up on the giant on the left, momentarily engulfing it and its comrade.  A cone of ice and cold followed quickly.  Knowing that Ranearal was done for the moment, the rest of us moved in.  I used on of my cloaks to cast a dimension door spell, and jumped to a spot behind the giant on the right.  The others focused on the giant on the left…all except Ranearal, who I assume either did not see me, or figured I would get out of the way in time.  He cast another massive cold spell, focused on the giant on the right…and normally, I would've gotten out of the way, but it was that unfortunate moment that I chose to trip…and fell right into the spell…, which at least hit the giant as well.  The cold was excruciating for a second, then numbing.  By the time I gained my feet again, I was shaking so much that I could hardly keep my hands on my weapons.  Still, and all, even so wounded by "friendly fire," I managed a good showing, and took down the wounded giant, even as the rest of the party finished off the one on the left.

      Ranearal approached, not looking in the least bit ashamed at having caught me in his potentially deadly spell.  He shrugged, and with a half-grin, said,

      "I'd've thought you would've dodged it.  You normally do, after all."

      "Thanks a lot, Ranearal," I grumbled.   The last thing I needed was to going to battle with the cult of the Dragon already wounded.  Guar took pity on me and cast a healing spell, which took away a bit of the sting.  After that battle, we were running rather low on spells and healing magic, but there was no where and no time to rest, so we decided to keep going, regardless, hoping that we could find a place to rest later.

      We didn't go in right away, because I happened to notice something strange on the stone near the cave.  Curiously, I checked it out, brushing away a bit of dust to reveal a carved harper symbol into the stone.  I felt a bit of relief at knowing that our mysterious note writer was still near.  Digging down, beneath the symbol, I uncovered a large metal box that was locked…not like a lock was much of a deterrent for a thief as well trained as myself.  Inside there were robes…of different sizes, but all the same beyond that…the robes all bore the symbol of the Cult embroidered on them.  Grinning, I passed them out, and caught Kedra's eye and gave her a wink.  It only took her a minute or two to catch on.

      "Well…we'll be doing this quiet-like, then.  Put the robes on Guar," I ordered the half-orc, who was staring at the cloth as though I'd just handed him a live viper.  

      "Why?"  He asked.

      "Because if I'm right, the army that the Cult has in that cave outnumbers us by an insane mount.  We'll do this like what we did with the Zhents…we'll go, seek out the ones in charge, and kill them…at least that way we'll have a minute chance of surviving this."  He didn't really seem to like my answer, but he did what I asked, nonetheless.  Using spells, Ranearal and I did the best we could to disguise the most noticeable of the party member's features.  Ranearal's ears and skin tone were changed, and my crimson hair was changed to black…likewise with Kedra.  We couldn't really do much for Guar, so we just had him put his hood up.  Aiyana, rather than using the robe disguise, shape shifted herself into a snake, and Ranearal picked her up and put her in his pocket.  As a final maneuver, I made certain that my robes were loosely laced in the front…that way any man who thought to look at us would keep his eyes far away from my face.

      We entered the cave, and in the back we found two ladders, leading downward.  One was a normal, human sized ladder; while the other was certainly made for the giants we'd just killed outside.  At the bottom of the ladder was a large archway, guarded by about ten men.  I tensed as we approached, but they hardly glanced our way as we passed, except to straighten up a bit from their slouching positions.  We passed several more smaller guard posts, and guard room, were men were relaxing, without problem.  Next to me, Guar was reflexively clutching the haft of his mace.

      "Do we kill them?"  Guar whispered.  He didn't seem happy when I shook my head.

      "No…not yet."  We continued onward, and found our way into another huge cavern.  We were very far underground now…some 200 feet and more according to Kedra…and I can say that I wasn't entirely comfortable knowing how much stone was sitting over our heads, potentially poised to fall and crush us.  The cavern was full of Cult soldiers…hundreds of them…training, talking, eating…and there were more tunnels…, which meant more Cultists…we were more than just outnumbered.  

      Deciding that we would need spells for the upcoming battles after all, we found our way into one of the barrack-style caves.  Since we were disguised as Cultists, we figured no one would bother us.  The rest of the party chose beds and got ready to rest in shifts, so that no one surprised them.  I however, decided to scout out the rest of the complex and try to find out what I could about whatever was about to happen.  I let the others know where I was headed, then took off.  

      Now, I searched through tunnels, and caves and rooms positively crawling with Cultists.  I even found the place where the giants apparently slept…there were no less than thirty of them…I was beginning to feel less and less optimistic about our chances.  I managed to search a couple of rooms, I found one with another one of the those Tome of the Dragon books…this one a bit more ornate than the one we'd found, and a pallet…but there didn't seem to be anything special.  Another room contained a balding old man, who answered the door when I knocked.  I quickly came up with the excuse that I was lost, the tunnels being rather confusing.  The man nodded, sympathetically.

      "Don't worry, sister.  Soon we will complete the ritual, and be gone from here."  I nodded, then quickly left that area.  Ritual?  What ritual, I wondered.  And why was he calling me sister?  Fortunately I didn't have to wait long for answers.

      I'd just made my way through a kitchen, and was headed down another tunnel, still in search of information, when someone who'd been hiding in the shadows grabbed me from behind, a hand clamping down over my mouth.  A male voice whispered hotly against my ear.

      "For the sake of those who Harp, remain silent and come with me."  I relaxed, and resheathed the dagger I was about to slay my attacker with.  I followed him into a nearby room.  He locked it behind us, and cast a spell, which made the door glow for a moment with an arcane symbol.

      "Thank Oghma…" he saw the bow I was still carrying, then looked to my face.  I noticed that he was wearing a robe similar to the one I wore.  He seemed a plain looking fellow, with graying-brown hair and hazel eyes…but appearances were deceiving.

      "Finally, you've come," he quickly fumbled beneath his robes, and I saw a flash of silver in the torch light…a Harper pin.

      "You should be more careful, fellow," I warned him.  "How do you know I am one of you?"

      "I can sense your pin…" He gestured to exact spot beneath my robe where I wore my pin.               

"Well enough, then…but don't get your hopes up yet…there are only five of us here…and we have a dire lack of information," I stated.

"Five?"

"Aye…a wizard, a priest and fighter of Lathlander, a druid, a dwarf, and myself."

"It will have to be enough…I will tell you what I know…we have little time.  The ritual will begin tomorrow night, now that the players are all assembled."

"We got your letters, but what does the Cult mean to do?" I queried.

"The Cult worships a man named Sammaster as their god.  He is their founder, and rumored to have been more than a little mad.  The Cult plans to resurrect him tomorrow.  When he is brought back…he was a powerful caster…he will active the arches, and a veritable army of dragons, undead, and dracoliches will be loosed upon the kingdoms of Faerun.  Caught so surprised…the effects of such an attack would be devastating, especially after all of the turmoil which had so recently occurred."

"How can we stop it, then?"  I demanded.

"There are two things…one, we must stop…kill…all those who will be involved with casting the ritual…  Needless to say this will be very hard to do.  Or we can destroy all of the arches, but that will leave our enemies standing."  Gull's words echoed, annoyingly in my mind…never leave an enemy standing…I knew we would have to try the first.

So the harper gave me the names and descriptions of each of the major players that we would have to defeat, or at the very least, worry about.  The two who would be leading the ceremony were Vinselven, who was actually the same old man I'd run into earlier.  He was a wearer of purple, which I suppose meant he was some sort of necromantic kind of mage.  The second was Kreslara Yvelt, his apprentice.  There would also be a half-orc warrior guarding them, named, Gorstak, and of course, our favorite lich, whose name I finally learned was, Karikaraa.  And naturally, being that this was the Cult of the Dragon we were dealing with, there was an ancient, green dracolich, Dev'Selaxis, whose cave was connected to the room that the ceremony would be performed in.  

He told me that we would have to stop…probably kill all the major players involved in order to succeed.  He also added that the only way to beat Karikaraa would be to temporarily destroy her phylactery.  We could permanently destroy it, however, as it was apparently some sort of evil, unholy tome of the Dragon, and couldn't really be destroyed because it was an artifact, or something.  But if we used fire, and lots of it, we could "destroy" it long enough that Karikaraa would be unable to return.  As for the dracolich, he told me that there was no other suitable body in the area for it to take, so all we had to do was to kill its current body, and it would be trapped in its phylactery.  Oh…and there would probably be a few hundred other cultist attending the ceremony as well…no problems…this would be as easy as breathing…really…great…

So, I asked him where he would be when this all started, after all, it would nice to have a little extra help.  He said that he would take care of all non-important Cultists, giving us whatever time we needed to take out the others.  He wouldn't explain more than that.  

To save me some time, I had him give me direction how to get to the ceremony chamber. After that, he took his departure.  We never exchanged names, knowing that it would be better, especially if one or the other of us was caught at our charade.

"May Tymora smile on you,"  I said, as I moved to open the door.  He nodded, fervently.

"May she indeed, and may Oghma protect us." 

 I went down and had a quick look at the ceremonial chamber.  It was a large, open caver, with a raised dais in the middle. There were three levels in the room, and behind the dais was a steep drop off to another cavern below.  I could hear lots of noise coming from below, but decided not to get close enough to look just yet.  There were only two obvious ways into the room…the way I'd come in  and a cave off to the side…a very large cave, which I assumed was the entrance to the dracolich's lair.  We would have to find some way to block that passage off to buy us time to finish off the humanoids enemies, before being forced to deal with the dracolich itself.

I headed back up to where the others were resting, and quickly, quietly, told them all that I'd learned.  Turning to Ranearal, when I was done, I said,

"Our success may hinge on you being able to block off the dracolich for a time."  He nodded thoughtfully.

"I maybe able to do it…I have a spell…it would create a wall of force over the entrance, and it might keep the dracolich stuck for a while…so long as it has no other ways out."

So we planned out our battle as best we could.  Guar would take on the other half-orc, Kedra would go after the lich, Aiyana would focus on the apprentice, I would go for Vinselven, leaving Ranearal to cast what he saw fit, and at whom…though I did warn him to try to prepare to counter the spells that Karikaraa had used on us last time.

We sent one last spell-message to Dove, letting her know to have the Harpers, and their allies try to destroy the gates…immediately.  We warned her that we would attack tomorrow, and that if we failed…well…you get the idea.

With that, we all went back to resting taking turns sleeping.  I slept, but rather fitfully, as my mind was having a hard time accepting that the titanic seeming battle we would be beginning come nightfall might decide the fate Faerun.

We made our way down to the ceremonial chamber, once night came…far sooner than it should, or so it seemed.  I really was trying not to be afraid, by I kept running through scenarios…and most of them seemed to end with us failing.  I was afraid to fail.  We walked down, hoods up, with another large group of the Cultists in purple robes.  As soon as we entered the chamber, I felt the calm of a coming battle, which reminded me of the stillness of the ocean before a storm, settle over me.  The room was nearly full…with at least a hundred and more Cultists. The key players were all in place as we'd been warned.  Upon the dais stood Vinselven, reading from a very large, ornate copy of the Tome of the Dragons…the phrase he spoke was familiar, for I'd heard it once before…

"…and naught will be left save shattered thrones, with no rulers.  But the dead dragons shall rule the world entire…"

Beside him stood a younger woman, whom I had to assume was his apprentice, Kreslara Yvelt.  Both were dressed in formal looking purple robes, heavily embroidered with arcane symbols and draconic designs.  Next to the apprentice was Karikaraa, in her illusionary disguise….but I knew who she was, and as soon as I realized that, I could see her true form beneath the spell.  The half-orc, Gorstak was positioned at the base of the dais, his axe readied in his arms, his piggy-black eyes sweeping vigilantly, right than left.  The dracolich was apparently still in its cave, and thank the gods for that.  As soon as we hit the crowd, the members of the party separated, and moved to position themselves.  Normally, some of us would have been invisible for this, but it was pointless, considering that Karikaraa, like myself, could see through any invisibility spells.  So I went back to my old ways…keeping to the shadows, moving quietly, and steadily forward.  I meant to get as close to the dais as possible…not a difficult task, seeing as the tiers of the chamber seemed to be organized by rank…with the common members of the Cult who'd come to watch at the lowest point, and the wearers of the purple right next to the high dais.  I got all the way to the edge of the dais, making certain that I had a clear sight of Vinselven.  On a whim, I looked over the edge, and peered down the crevasse, to the bottom…and what I saw there stole my breath.

Gathered in the cavern below was a literal horde of undead creatures…all kinds….and dragons…dead and living….all colors that were known to be evil…it was like looking at an insidious, deadly rainbow, milling about below.  This, then, was the army that the Cult of the Dragon meant to loose upon Faerun.  There were so many…I tore my gaze away and refocused on Vinselven.  By the gods…we had to stop this.  Then it came…the distraction we'd been waiting for…it began as a low rumble…that began to grow louder, and louder.  The sound of hundreds of feet…armored men…roars…the clank of weapons…then from the tunnel where we'd entered, the color of purple and gleaming silver appeared, clothing the bodies of hundreds of warriors, all shouting allegiance to Cormyr…an army of Purple Dragons?!  My initial thought was: how?  But then I remembered…the distraction…this was it…and the Purple Dragons…I suddenly doubted that they were real.  However, the Cultists didn't doubt the truth of their "foe's" arrival, and the lower Cultists, and the other wearers of the purple turned and ran to do battle with the warriors.  I saw the plot happen…it only took a moment…the Purple Dragons…appearing to be outnumbered…fell back…the Cultists drove them back…and fell into the trap.  Another rumble began…and by the time they realized what had happened, it was too late.  Our Harper friend's trap…spell…whatever he used, caused the ground beneath their feet to shake…tiny stones fell…then the cavern of the tunnel above them fell…crushing the Cultists, almost to a man….trapping the rest of us in.  I turned back to the task at hand…even though I knew now, that there was no safe way out.  The ceiling of main cavern we were in was crumbling as well…and as I moved to attack, the area where I was standing broke away, along with a good portion of the ceiling...into the cave below.  I did not wait, or stop to look, but activated my cloak.  With a puff of smoke, I vanished, then reappeared directly behind Vinselven.  He had no chance to react, when I attacked…driving my two blades into his throat…or at least that's how it should have happened.  In reality, when I struck what should have been a deadly blow, my weapons went through Vinselven's flesh as though he were naught but air.  For a half of a half of a second I stood there, shocked…and my mind ran through reasons for my attack to have failed…and I remembered a spell that Dazelin had spoken of.  He claimed he was rather fond of the spell, for it could make the blades and weapons of a fighters useless, even enchanted blades…so long as they were metal.  Ironguard.  Fuck.  The enchantment on my swords was obviously not great enough to break through the spell…my eyes sought out my companions…and settled on Kedra.  Her hammer…the one she'd won in Acheron….that bloody thing was enchanted to a fare-thee-well…if anything could break past an Ironguard spell, that Hammer could.

"Kedra!"  I screamed, then in dwarven,

"Hit him!"  The dwarven girl looked up, and I saw her swift nod of assent.  With a shout to Moradin, she hurled the weapon with deadly accuracy, and it slammed into Vinselven.  He seemed astonished, and his attention which had momentarily been on me, turned instantly to Kedra, and I could hear him begin to cast.  Nearby, I saw a column of flame and holy energy strike down at Karikaraa, saw Aiyana finish gesturing.  The druid was not far from Ranearal, who'd also just finished a spell.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the barrier of magical energy go up over the entrance to the dracolich's lair…just in time, for there was movement in the shadows within.  Since we were all switched targets, I turned on Vinselven's apprentice, who was beginning to cast.  She got off her spell…whatever it was…but it did not affect me.  With a scream, I tore into her, slashing once, twice, again…again…and again.  She tried to fight, but I gave her little chance.  And in a moment, she had dropped, bloodily to the ground.  Free of one threat, I turned to face Karikaraa…and about that time, was when I felt the tip of a blade pierce my back.  Astonished, I turned back to see the apprentice was standing, again…whole and hale, once more.  I jerked away, and brought my weapons up once more, ignoring the pain…as I did, I saw a faint glow about the ring on her left hand…whatever that ring was had brought her back from the death…which was where I'd sent her.  I had to get the ring off her first, before killing her again.  I was completely focused on the task, for as a caster, she was adept at the use of the damned rapier she carried, as well as the claw bracer on her other hand.  This time she was more prepared, and it was not quite so easy to attack her.  I connected with Banshee's wail, only to feel the burn, as she raked that damned bracer across my shoulder…some how it seemed to hurt more than a merely cut should, and I prayed it was not poisoned.  I managed to take her feet out from under her, wincing as I heard the clash of battle, heard a scream of pain from Kedra, somewhere behind me.  

The bitch hit the floor, and her hand was flung away from her body.  I stomped down of the palm, and brought both edges of my swords down on her wrists with every bit of force I had.  Kreslara Yvelt screamed hoarsely as I severed her hand from her body.  She scrambled to her feet, even as I picked up her hand, and took the ring off the finger...and put it on my own.  Her eyes widened once, and she tried to back away a, fumbling for a wand in her belt…but it was too late for her.  I brought Banshee's wail in from one angle, Winter's edge in from another.  I didn't quite decapitate her, but it only took two more cuts to remove the head from the corpse.  I tossed it away, hoping that if anything other than the ring had brought her back, that it would take longer to work with the lack of a head. 

Quickly, I spun in about to see what the others were doing, which enemy it would be most advantageous to go after next.  Guar was locked in a sort of mortal combat with Gorstak, axe to mace…though Guar seemed to occasionally take a step back and chant a prayer.  There were two huge…cats…engaged in battle…and I assumed that one of them had been summoned by the spell that Kreslara had cast.  Ranearal and Aiyana's attentions were focused on Karikaraa…the lich had just cast the same spell…the one that surrounded her with bones that were draconic in shape…that she had back at the keep.  Immediately, Ranearal began to cast a spell, and a heartbeat later, his spell hit her and dispelled hers.  

Meanwhile, I caught sight of Kedra…who was running, upside down, on the ceiling…she was headed towards the dais, and Vinselven…threw her hammer, which blasted into him…and he went down…apparently dead.  But, once again, it was deceiving.  Whatever we had been attacking had not really been Vinselven, but rather some simulacrum of him, for it vanished a heartbeat later, and the real Vinselven appeared, his hands moving quickly.  Kedra fell from the roof of the cavern, landing heavily. Thinking to try again, I spun on Vinselven, attacking him from the side.  My swords connected with him this time, but with a clink, as though they were hitting stone and not flesh, or even armor….fucking stoneskin spell!  But at least with stoneskin, I knew that there would be an end to it, if I kept attacking.  So I tore into him, even as I heard Kedra shouting, the stomp of her heavy, booted feet  on their way here.  Suddenly, I heard Ranearal's warning.

"Oatmeal!"  I just managed to dodge as a fireball…one far more powerful than Kedra's…exploded at the top of the dais.  Fortunately, I was the only party member actually up there with Vinselven, and Karikaraa, and I only singed the end of my braid.  The spell hardly seemed to slow Karikaraa, who jumped from the dais, and stalked towards Aiyana and Ranearal.  Vinselven, however, had been hurt by the spell…and it only took me two more attacks…two swords through his chest to drop him.  As with his apprentice, once he fell, I brought both weapons high, and beheaded him, then kicked the head away.  I was getting damned, bloody tired of my enemies getting up again.  

We were doing all right…there was only Gorstak and Karikaraa to deal with…and of course the dracolich.  Instinctively, at that thought, I looked to the tunnel.  The movement I'd seen there earlier was gone, and somehow that bothered me greatly.  It occurred to me that a dracolich of such power as the Harper had said, might have another, hidden way out of its cave.  Hells…more than likely…

Just then, Guar got off another prayer, and Gorstak froze in position…a hold person spell.  Excellent.  With Gorstak out of the way, and helpless…the entire party converged on Karikaraa, the foe that we all held a special hatred for.  The bitch acting cocky, tossed spells at us.  Fireball…lightning…  Ranearal slammed her with arcane spells, Aiyana with holy.  Kedra, Guar and I moved in, and attacked her from three sides, completely enclosing her.  We were prepared for her tricks this time, and each time she tried to throw up a dangerous spell, or another of those antimagic spells, Ranearal was ready with a counterspell.  By trying to cast, she didn't have anytime to defend herself from the blades and heads of our weapons.  Finally, with a shriek of rage, Karikaraa fell, then fell to dust, as Guar continued to crush and stomp on her bones.  

'The phylactery!"  I shouted to the others…and searching through her belongings, we found it…the very same bloody book I'd seen earlier, upstairs, and hadn't given a thought to!  We placed the book onto the floor, and everyone stepped back…and began to cast.  Ranearal and Kedra's fireball spells connected at the same time as the vial of flaming oil I Threw, and the two flamestrikes that Guar and Aiyana had summoned down.  When the smoke cleared the book was ash…maybe not forever, but long enough that Karikaraa would not be able to come back.  

Kedra went back to Gorstak, and made certain that he would not be a threat any longer…grin…while the rest of us took a bit of time to catch our breath.  Ranearal was unharmed, and Aiyana, only mildly so…having been caught by a few spells.  Guar, Kedra, and I weren't doing so hot…as I began to feel the pain of the wounds a bit more, after having a moment to breathe.  

I'd just barely had time to drink down a potion of healing, when another rumble shook the room.  We all fought to keep our feet, as from below, where the cavern with the Cult's army had been, a shower of rock and debris shot out, and the dracolich flew up from the hole.  There was only a bit of scaly, rotting skin hanging from its bones, to show that it had once been a green dragon.  It was huge…not nearly as big as the purple worm, but far bigger than any dragon we'd yet fought.  There was a sense of evil and unholiness that instantly filled the room at its presence, and where its eyes should have been, there was a frightening red glow, that sought us out.  The gaze caused terror, filling me with fear, which I just managed to shake off.  Most of the others did as well, accept for Aiyana, who stood, seemingly frozen in fear.  It took to the air at the highest point of the cavern, and then it used its breath…a huge cloud of greenish yellow gas, that as soon as it connected with the members of the party, began to eat at our armor…destroy our clothes…and burn our skin.  I managed to get out of the way, taking only a minor burn to my arm.  Aiyana was caught full, in the middle of it, and dropped to the ground, wheezing weakly.  Ranearal, too, had dodged, and it didn't seem to be affecting Guar.  I assumed he had some sort spell up to protect him.  Kedra, however, began to scream in a rage, for the gas had destroyed her armor, the mithral links falling, ruined to the floor.  

I took a moment to pull out, and drink down a potion…and I felt the magic of the foul tasting potion flow through me, as I took to the air, meaning to attack the dracolich, and hopefully force it to land, so the others could attack.  The dracolich began to dive at the party before I got there, and I followed it back down.  We attacked with everything we had left…which wasn't much.  I first tried to use the bow that the Harper left for us, but either the dragon was immune to the enchantment, or the power of the bow was too weak to affect something of this magnitude, for the slaying affect did not work.  It didn't even have to use magic on us.  With one swipe of it tail, it knocked Kedra's feet our from under her.  It swung its neck around, and caught, mid-air, with a bite that took the breath from my lungs.  The teeth felt like a dozen daggers piercing into my side.  Fortunately it let go after a second, when Guar struck it with his mace.  I managed to regain control of my flight before hitting the ground.  I wasn't doing well, but I flew back at it, drawing out the two sparkly stones I had from the Harper.  Using the command word, I activated them, and aimed them right at the dracolich's head.  Both stones connected, and exploded.  It must've actually hurt the dracolich, for it reeled back, with a ground-shaking roar that shook my bones within my skin.  It swung around again, preparing to attack me…an attack I knew that I could not take.  I closed my eyes, and gave a silently prayer to the Earthmother…Chauntea, and to Tymora…and to Tempus, thanking him for allowing me to die well…but the strike never came.  I heard a voice…Ranearal voice, shouting at the dracolich.

"You!  Dev'Selaxis!  Pitiful excuse for a wyrm!  Face me!  Face this!"  And he drew Scalecarver, the elven blade from its scabbard.  Even from a distance, I could feel the energy in the sword begin to hum.  It was made to kill dragons…dragons and undead…and here was the worst of both combined.  I felt a moment of fear for Ranearal…he would not survive long with the dracolich's full attention focused on him.  Then, the elf's to her hand came up, and he shouted a word…and the third stone flew from his hands, and struck Dev'Selaxis exactly where I'd already hit him.  The dracolich roared in pain…not one of us hesitated…this was our last chance.  Diving forward, I drew my swords, and began hacking at the bones along the creature's spine, near the base of its skull.  Kedra roared to Moradin, and her hammer, and Apocalypse smashed into the dracolich's leg, bits of bone flying everywhere.  Guar's voice, and prayers to Lathlander could be heard over the din, his hands began to  glow with healing magic…but as he'd told me once…healing magic hurt the undead as much as it healed the living.  Ranearal cast another spell…and began to change.  His body seemed to grow bigger, stronger…he held Scalecarver more easily, and a light came into his eyes…a light of chaos, that often suffused Guar's in the midst of battle-rage.  Ranearal had some how turned himself into a berserker!  He tore into Dev'Selaxis, even as the rest of us worked it over.  The power of our magic weapons combined to best affect, and the dracolich began to falter.  As I felt we were near to success, the dracolich suddenly flew up, and breathed at us again.  As we all scrambled to get out of the way, Dev'Selaxis began to speak some strange words in a language I assumed to be draconic…I only caught the meaning of a few words, for Ranearal spoke draconic, and I'd learned a bit by listening to him throughout the winter.  

Dev'Selaxis was calling to someone named Tiamat for aid.  For a long, silent moment, nothing happened…then the ground began to shake for the third time that day…even with the flying spell, the tremors knocked me from the air, knocked the rests of the party's feet out from under them.  Above us, the ceiling of the cavern fell in, and we were hard pressed to avoid the boulder-sized chunks that fell.  In the space above us, which was now open to the night sky, hovered a dragon, the likes of which I'd never even imagined.  It was huge…bigger than anything I can think to describe…and there were five heads…all chromatic…different colors, in hue.  The force of evil I felt at that moment was so palabable that I didn't need Guar to tell me that it was there.  I knew that this was no normal dragon…and I knew we were doomed.

As I had that thought, though, something began to shake in Guar's backpack…and glow.  I crawled over to the backpack, which had been thrown clear of where Guar was, and drew out the object…it was a breastplate…but not just any piece of armor…it was the breastplate that I'd had made from the scales of the silver dragon…I'd given it to Guar earlier, when the "mishap" had occurred with his armor earlier.  He'd taken it off, though, and replaced it with the armor of one of the Cultist we'd killed near the tower…as a better disguise.  

The breastplate glowed with such intensity, that I had to look away after a moment.  Then above, we heard a roar…and then the evil, five headed dragon's answering roar of rage.  I opened my eyes and looked up to see a dragon equal in size to the five-headed one, swooping down from the clouds.  This dragon was so awe-inspiring, it was all I could do to stare.  It was a platinum hue, and as the one had radiated evil, so this dragon radiated goodness.  It had with it a gold dragon, which immediately flew at the dracolich.  A moment later, the dracolich struck the ground, driven there under the gold's claws, and turned to dust. The platinum dragon looked down at us, and in my head, I heard a voice.  It was gentle and calming, and gave me a renewed sense of strength.

_:Thank you: _It said…then… :_Go.:  _The dragon turned its head, and breathed at the wall of the cavern.  The stone blew away, and there was suddenly an opening…a way out…and overhead, with a series of roars, a battle began, that I knew we had no part in.

I stumbled to my feet, and stuffed the breastplate back into Guar's backpack.

"Run!"  I shouted at the others, who'd also been staring, awestruck.  They heard me, and must have felt the same, for the cavern was collapsing around us, from the damage it had taken.  We ran for the opening that Bahamut…I assumed it had to be Bahamut, the one who'd supposedly blessed the scales for us…had made.  It didn't occur to me until later…after talking with Ranearal, that we'd seen gods…witnessed a battle between two gods…the dragon gods Bahamut and Tiamat.  We made it outside, just as the rest of the cavern collapsed in, but we did not stop running.  We ran until we had no more breath left, and collapsed to the ground, wheezing for air, many miles away from where we had been, exhaustion and wounds finally catching up to us.  

Healing potions and Guar's spells healed the worse of the wounds, but could not heal all of them.  We made camp right there, having little choice, for there was not a one of us who could go another step that night.  Throughout the night, there were flights of dragons overhead…Cult dragons that'd managed to escape the collapse, no doubt.  But they did not bother us, too intent were they on escape.  And we did not bother them, as we were far too needing of rest.

I dreamed that night…of my brother, Tristain.  I was in the same grove…walked up on the same pool…only it was no longer a pool anymore, but stream…for the dam at the edge had broken.  I sat down at the edge of the stream, and a moment later, Tristain walked up from the other side, and sat down directly across from me.

"Tressa…are you all right?"  He asked…for the first time ever, his words were clear, and understandable.  I nodded, slowly.

"I'll be all right, soon."  I replied.

"I missed you," he said quietly, his voice sounding far away, even though he was right across from me.

"I'll be home soon," I promised, standing up.  He stood as well, and reached his hand towards me.  I looked about, waiting for the fist…but nothing happened.  I reached across the stream, and our fingers touched…and I knew it was over.  No more screaming fits…no more headaches…I was Tressa again…Tressa…and Raine…for the two were forever intertwined.  I could never be what I was…but I was whole again.

We traveled back to the town, a bit slower this time.  There was no trouble on the way back, unless you count Kedra's endless griping over the loss of her armor.  She only shut up when we promised to get her a new set once we got home.

We only stopped at the town for a night…for some food, and a bath, then continued back towards the tower the next day.  When we arrived, however, no one was there.  There was no sign of Dayton, and the mirror he'd been guarding was apparently just that…a mirror.  Whatever spell had made it into some sort of doorway no longer worked…and Ranearal claimed that it wasn't a magical mirror anyhow.  So that left us to find our own way back home, seeing as we were stuck on the other side of an ocean.  We went back to the town to try to find Dayton, but to no avail.  No one had seen him, so either he'd not come this way, or did not want to be found.  Fine.  He hadn't wanted to help us…he'd left where he was supposed to be…he obviously did not care to be one of us anymore.  So we decided to leave him…leave him to whatever he was about, since he obviously didn't want to be an adventurer.


	5. 5

That left us with the task of finding a way home.  The first idea was to go to a port, and find a boat that was headed across.  Needless to say, I wasn't keen on that idea.  After all, I have a two to three ratio for having boats sink out from under me.  Having survived what we had just survived, I wasn't eager to press my luck, or Tymora's favor.  So Ranearal told us that if we were willing to wait a few hours, and take a bit of a risk, he would try to teleport all of us across.  He said that the only problem would be weight limits, but that if we put everything heavy we owned, like armor and such into the bags of holding, that it wouldn't be a hindrance.  Deciding that a minor risk was better than drowning…again…we all voted to try Ranearal's spell.  So we waited.  He cast the spell, and a moment later, we reappeared about a hundred yards from the front gate to my keep…safe and sound, with all relevant body parts still attached.  Kedra and the others began to walk towards the keep, but suddenly something occurred to me…I haven't the foggiest idea why.  

"Kedra, stop!"  I called to the dwarf girl.  Kedra complied, as did the rest of the party.

"You can't go in there looking like that if you want to seduce Takklinn,"  I said, simply, waving at her current state of attire.  Kedra looked herself over, taking note of the dirty, hole-filled, ruined clothing, her messy hair, and dirty hands.  

"I can't?"  she asked, confused.  

"No…just wait a second, and I'll help you out."  Now, Kedra hadn't brought any spare clothing with her, but Aiyana, fortunately had.  So I borrowed one of the druid's shirts, which was long and white, like a short dress on Kedra.  Ranearal was kind enough to cast a cleaning cantrip on Kedra and her other clothing, so I had her put her bodice on over the shirt.  Using water from our waterskins, she washed the worst of the dirt from her face, while I "fixed" her "dress".

"Now then Kedra…you want to know how to get the Captain's attention, here's what you do.  First, make certain that he can see these…"  I jerked the shirt down low, so that it just barely covered her breasts, then tightened the bodice until they look as though they were about overflow.

"Second, make certain you tell him how very much you missed him.  And third, smile, and act as though he's the most wonderful thing in the world.  Do that, and I promise he'll be all yours."  Kedra was mumbling under her breath, repeating what I'd said, until she was certain that she had it down.  

Now by the time I had finished stalling…and yes, subconsciously, I knew that I was stalling my own re-entrance, knowing who was probably at the keep now…the lookouts up on the wall at the keep had caught sight of us, and there was some movement near the gate, as some of the men were coming out to see what was going on.  Kedra began walking determinedly towards the keep.  Everyone else followed after her…Guar had also attempted to clean up a bit, murmuring about seeing "his Violet."  I had no choice really, but to follow, or stay outside.  

My feet carried me up to the keep, and across the lowered drawbridge.  The portcullis was up, and several of my soldiers were milling  around near the front.  They looked a bit nervous, until they realized who we were.  As soon as they caught sight of me, one of the men…I think his name was Ryan…yelled back into the keep.

"They're back, Captain Takklinn!  Lady Raine and her friends are back!"  Damnit...I don't know how many times I've told them not to call me that.  

As we crossed into the actual yard of the keep, I saw that there was a lot of activity going on…and a fair amount more people about than I remembered from when we'd left.  There were several groups of soldiers drilling in the tilting yard, Captain Takklinn just leaving them to head in our direction.  Gull was over under the tree with a few of the men, Nym included, no doubt teaching them how to be sneaky and such.  He looked up as we entered, but only for a moment.  I saw the curiosity in his eyes, but I guess he was willing to wait to find out what had happened.

The good Captain approached me determinedly…I've no doubt to come give a report of whatever might've happened while we were gone, but before he could get a word out, there was a feminine squeal, and then Kedra jumped him….literally.  The dwarf girl threw herself at Captain Takklinn with such force that she knocked the poor man to the ground, landing on top of him.  Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged her so much…  Poor Captain Takklinn seemed more than a bit stunned…and he began to turn a bit blue, as Kedra had his face trapped between her rather large breasts.  Finally, I spoke up.

"Kedra, you might want to let him breath,"  I suggested.

"Oh!"  she exclaimed, and sat up.  Takklinn took a deep gasping breath, his brown eyes wide.

"Oh, Takklinn!  I missed you so much!"  Kedra nearly shouted.  Takklinn just sat there looking absolutely dumbfounded.  It was quite amusing, or would've been, had I not seen several people approaching from the direction of Rossal's garden.  I saw the distinctive red hair…Tristain.  There was Andar…who had a rather suspicious, satisfied look on his face.  I knew immediately that the priest had been up to something, and I must admit, I was rather nervous as to what it was.  And next to those two familiar faces, were two others…familiar, and yet…not.  They had changed from memories of them.  My father's hair, which had once been the same crimson as my own, now had threads of white and silver running through it, especially around his temples.  It was a rather odd effect, although I had to wonder if that's what people thought of my hair when they first saw it.  His face was older, more lined, and his eyes seemed sad, as though he was not used to smiling much anymore. He was wearing a tunic of dark green, with silver trim, the sword hanging at his waist was not the weapon I was familiar with…but then it wouldn't be, for Tristain now carried our father's sword.  

Beside him, my mother hardly seemed changed at first.  Her hair was the same ink-black, silken fall that it had always been, her eyes the same gold-flecked sapphire that mine were.  But when she drew closer, I could see it in her eyes, on her face…the feeling that she was not the same person that she had been…

I don't know whether they had been on their way to somewhere else in the keep, or if they'd come out of the garden to see what the commotion was…but their eyes found me quick enough, and they stopped, staring.  I froze, suddenly, seeing myself as they must be seeing me.  My clothing was a disaster, full of holes, slash marks, stained with dirt and blood…some of it my own.  My hair had not been washed, or re-braided in over a week…there hadn't been time.  Hells, I don't think I'd even washed my face since before we went the first gate.  I was in my full adventuring gear, leather armor barely keeping the remains of my clothing from falling off…swords on both hips.  I could suddenly feel every cut, every dried smear of blood… I looked awful.  I couldn't face them like this…how could I have been so stupid?!  Their first image of me, after all these years would be…this!  I felt my breath coming faster, as I looked about for an escape.  I couldn't talk to them yet.  Not like this!  I was so upset, that I hardly noticed Kedra dragging a protesting Takklinn off, towards her room.  

"Captain, take half the day off," I murmured, staring, even as they began moving closer once more.

"Tressa…Raine!"  Tristain hailed me, as he got closer.  Then I saw the way out…there was a clear path to my tower.  If I could just get into the tower and shut the door…I bolted.

"Tressa!"  Tristain, shouted.

"Raine!"  Came Andar's echoing yell.  I ignored them both.  They had no idea…they wouldn't understand.  Now, just as there aren't many people in the keep stronger than I am, there are even less who are as fast…except maybe Guar, but Guar was no where to be seen at the moment, nor was Violet for that matter.  I made it to the tower, slammed the door shut and locked it.  I ran upstairs to the second floor, only to remember that I had no clothing to change into…I'd been too lazy to go out and get anything new.  Wonderful.  I went over to the bath chamber, and used the decanter of endless water to fill up the bath, and began trying to remove the dirt and blood from my skin.  I threw my armor to the floor, and the rest of my gear followed.  I vaguely heard the others down by the door…but I couldn't hear what was being said.  I heard the door below open and shut, even though I'd locked it, but it didn't register, until I heard footsteps behind me.

"Raine…what are you doing?"  Andar asked.  I didn't turn, but kept my focus.

"I can't meet them…not looking like this.  I have to get clean."

"Raine…they don't care…"

"But I do!"  I finally turned, nearly shouting the words at him.  Then it occurred to me to enlist Andar's help.

"Andar,"  I said, standing suddenly.  "You need to go find Lureene and Shandri.  Someone has to have some extra clothes in this damned place!  I can't…I can't wear these clothes…if they don't have something, then ask one of the men…they'll at least have a tunic…or…" He was walking up on me, put his hands on my shoulders.

"Raine…stop.  Calm down."  I took a deep breath…then another…calm.

"Now, come here, I want to show you something," he said, smiling softly.  I studied his face…the sun-streaked brown hair falling over his eyes, to his shoulders…warm, sun-tanned skin, and liquid brown eyes that drew mine to them…the pale scars on his jaw that vanished into the collar of his tunic…he was not exotic…at first glance he wasn't even that interesting…yet I favored that face over all the others I'd ever looked on…why?

He took my hands in his…warm and callused…and drew me over to my wardrobe.  The wardrobe, a large, carved piece of oak, had been empty when I'd left...a place to hold and store all the clothes I'd never owned.  Not so now.  When he opened the doors, there was a rainbow of colored cloth inside.  Shocked, I moved forward, touching my fingers to the material.  The wardrobe was full.  There were all kinds of clothes within it now.  There were dresses…nearly a dozen of them…in all sorts of colors and textures.  There were sleeveless, linen dresses for summer…long-sleeved velvet and wool for winter…fancy silk dresses, plain cotton, and a rather naughty looking one made of nearly see-though material.  There were tunics and pants in all different colors and styles…in the drawers beneath the closet part, there were all sorts of extra stuff…shoes, sandals, ribbons, sashes, belts, scarves…all sorts of things that matched the outfits.

"Where…?  But….who…?"  That was about all I managed to get out.  Andar smiled, and leaned forward, kissed me gently on the cheek.

"I'm glad you like them," he said softly.

"You?"  I asked, wonderingly…no one had ever given me anything like this.  I've never…well, not since after I was kidnapped, had clothing that was actually mine…actually made for me.  With Lady Emilia, all the kids, including me, wore plain tunics and pants made out of old robes that had belonged to the clerics.  With Gull, I wore whatever we managed to steal off clotheslines. The few things we actually bought were from second hand stores.  In short, every item of clothing I've owned for the last  16 years, had once belonged to some else.  So this…this gift…was simply amazing to me. There was this sharp prickly feeling at the corners of my eyes, that felt very unfamiliar…and very strange to me.

"You're welcome," Andar, said, as he released my hands, and left the way he'd come, before I had a chance to say anything else.  A moment later, I heard the door below open and then close again…I heard Andar tell my parents and brother to give me a few minutes to clean up.  They must've agreed, for I heard them move off.  I stood, staring at the wardrobe for another few minutes.  So much was happening…had happened in the past weeks…it was hard to accept.  My life was changing so quickly from everything that I'd once know…I was changing into something different from the person that I'd once thought I was.  

I rubbed my eyes to rid them of that strange sensation, and went back to my bath.  I didn't bother to heat up the water, but rather washed up in the cold.  It didn't really bother me…after all hot water was a luxury that I'd long done without.  I undid my hair, and scrubbed the whole mess twice before I was satisfied that it was clean.  Fortunately, my hair decided to behave, and it only took a few minutes to comb it out, and rebraid, which was better than the hour- long ordeal it usually was.  Once cleaned and dried, I walked back over to the wardrobe, and stared for another few moments.  I ran my fingers across the material of each dress, marveling at the texture.  I pulled out the three summer dresses that were there and tried each one on, before finally deciding on a sleeveless dress that consisted of a thin, soft under-dress of white, and a heavier linen overdress of sapphire blue, that laced up in the front.  There were little gold flowers embroidered around the hem of the skirt, and after digging through the drawers, I found a pair of leather sandals that had been dyed blue to match.  I put the whole affair on, tied a sash around the waist of the dress, then stepped in front of my mirror to have a look at the final result.  

I swear, by the gods, that I did not recognize myself at first.  The girl standing in the mirror hardly looked anything like the person I was accustomed to seeing.  For one thing…I looked like a girl…a real girl, and not one who runs around dressed in hacked up men's clothing, acting like a man all the time.  The dress, was nowhere in my usual caliber of attire…for one thing, the top of it covered my entire chest, and the bottom went down to my ankles, with the only large expanses of skin left showing, being my arms and my face.  There was nothing provocative about it…and it was simply pretty, not garish like some of my other outfits had been.  Okay…so I don't have the best taste in clothing…I never did…but, it appeared, that Andar certainly did.

Dressed and washed, I ran out of things to do.  I suppose that I partially ruined the effect of the dress by wearing Banshee's Wail, tied to the sash of the dress, on my hip…but then, I never go anywhere unarmed…dress or not.  

Slowly, I walked down the stairs, forcing iron into my spine.  I could do this…they were my parents…and they would love me, no matter what…right?

I opened the door, and at first, they were nowhere to be seen…but then again, as I said, there were a great many of people moving about the keep, each intent on their business.  Finally, I saw them, looking for the red amongst a sea of black and brown heads.  They were sitting beneath the tree, at the edge of the tilting yard…where Gull had been a short while ago.  Gull was still there, but the soldiers he'd been training earlier, were not.  Nym, I assumed had gone back to do chores in the stables.  

It seemed in that moment, everyone looked up as I took the first step out of my tower.  I vaguely heard some catcalls from some of my soldiers, but there was more quiet than noise, I suppose.  After all…it would be the first time any of my friends, or anyone else at the keep had seen me in a dress…or anything other than one of the three outfits I'd left the Moonshaes with.  Nervously, I made my way over to the tree, my hand resting on the hilt of Banshee's Wail, for security.  They stood when I walked up.  Gull whistled, and I quickly turned to him.

"Do it again, and I'll see you don't walk straight for a week,"  I smiled at him.  He held up his arms in mock surrender.

"Tis a sad day when I can't even give you a compliment, Banshee," he grinned.  I relaxed a bit…just a little, Gull's presence putting me more at ease.  I looked back to my parents…whose faces had yet to lose their awestruck expressions.

"Tressa…" my mother whispered, her eyes growing wet.  I shrugged a bit awkwardly, and stuck out my hand towards my father.

"Well, then…most people call me Raine the Banshee…although, I suppose it's all right if you want to call me Tressa."  My father ignored the hand, and lunged forward.  Before I had a chance to protest, his arms were wrapped around me, and he'd lifted me off the ground in a bone-grinding hug.

"By all the gods…my Tressa…" he cried.  I didn't struggle, forced myself to relax…my father was not a small man…although not as big as I remember him, either.  After a moment, I returned the hug, slipping my arms around his neck.  He sobbed again, murmuring "Tressa" over and over.  Then my feet were back on the ground again, and this time it was my mother who drew me into her embrace.  I was taller than she was by a few inches.  I could smell her hair…it smelled like flowers…the same scent from the woods near Myth Drannor, when I'd begun to scream…so that was why… it was the same as it had when I'd been little …feeling silky and familiar against my cheek.

"Oh…my baby…oh Labelas thank you…." My mother said, crying now as well.

"Don't cry…" I whispered.  "Please…I'm all right." She held me away from her for a moment, studying me through wet eyes, then hugged me close again.  

"Mommy…" the word was drawn from me, and my voice sounded childish, even to me.  "I missed you…even if I didn't remember that it was you I missed,"  I told her, feeling that disturbing prickly sensation again.  I stepped back when I felt my cheeks grow wet, and looked up.  It wasn't raining… Amazed, I wiped the wetness away, stared at my damp fingers.

"But I don't cry…" I whispered.  "I never cry…I don't know how to."  I felt a bit dizzy…

Now I'm not really certain what happened next, but there's no way in the nine hells that it happened the way that everyone said.  It must've been a fit or something, because I don't faint….I've never fainted a day in my life.  I'm Raine the Banshee, and I bloody well don't faint, like some half-witted, half-brained…girl!  It was a bloody fit…that's all.  Shock and the like…  I woke up a few moments later, cradled in my father's arms.  My mother and Andar both were hovering over me, with their "clerical" faces on, Tristain and a few others familiar faces looking on from the background.

"Tressa?  Baby, are you all right?"  My father asked, his voice the same melodic tone that I remembered.  I nodded.

"Sorry…It's been a really long couple of weeks, y'know," I apologized.  

"You fainted,"  Tristain stated, looking almost amused. That got me up quick.  I was out of my father's arm and up in my twin's face in two seconds, flat.

"I do not faint, Tristain Harpstar, so you'd best watch your mouth!"  I practically yelled at him.  The bloody, smug, little, git had the audacity to grin at me.

"Looked like a faint to me, Tressa-Raine." 

"I do not faint!!"  I thundered at him.  He laughed.  He actually laughed.  I might've hauled off and hit him...had he'd been anyone else…but seeing as he was my twin...and I had the feeling that by hitting him, I would only end up hurting myself as well, I held my fists.  However, I did manage to spin around, back towards my parents and smack him in the face with the end of my braid, in the process.

My parents were smiling…real, bright smiles, just like I remembered… Grinning brightly…my father's arm around my mother's dainty shoulders.

"Tressa…"  my mother began.

"Tell us everything…where you've been…what your life has been like…everything…" my father finished.

"But Tristain…didn't he tell you…?"  I asked.  They nodded.

"But we want to hear it from you, sweetheart,"  my father stated.  I took a deep breath.  

 "All right then…but could we sit down somewhere…and have a bit of food…I don't think I've had better than dried trail food for half a ten day."  I smiled.  They nearly fell over themselves on their way to bring me over to the great hall to get some food.

So I told them everything...spilling my whole story…again.  They asked many more questions than the others had though.  One of the first things I did was show them the little silver amulet that I'd gotten on my birthday, just before the kidnapping…I'd always kept it, and I wanted them to see that even though my mind had forgotten them, my heart never had.  Mother trembled when she saw that little bit of silver, taking it into her hands, and I knew that it had been important for her to see that amulet…I guess if there were any doubts as to who I was, that cleared them…for, apparently, only I could've worn the necklace…the enchantment on it had been much like the one Dazelin had put on Banshee's Wail…anyone else who tried to wear it would feel uncomfortable and want to take it off.  

Then I began to talk, and the questions began.  My mother wanted to know everything about Lady Emilia and Jael…my father wanted to hear exact descriptions of what the church and the surrounding areas were like…My mother cried when I told her about how everyone had died…my father looked positively murderous when I told them that I'd been raped…his gaze turned for a moment to Gull, accusing…but Gull glared back, defending…after all…there wasn't anything Gull could've done, seeing as he hadn't been there.  Needless to say, they were both upset when I told them how I'd died…and amazed when I told them about the dreams…the dreams that Tristain and I had shared ever since our separation.  I told them just about everything…all though I left out some of my more embarrassing blunders…and more…troublesome habits.  And I didn't tell them anything about my current feelings for Andar…or that Dazelin and Inialos were my lovers.  After all, you can tell your brother one thing…but there are some things that parents don't really need to know, right?  Still, and all, I don't like the look that crossed between them every time I said anything about Andar…who was with us, sitting in the back of the hall, arms crossed…that same annoyingly smug smile on his face.  I just knew he was up to something …even though I was still reeling over his gift.

They told me about the things that had happened since my kidnapping …about my brothers and sisters, the youngest three, of whom I'd yet to meet, although I assumed that they were here somewhere…They told me how they had searched for me for years…how much they missed me…and it seemed that every other sentence out of their mouths had something to do with how much they loved me.  

When I explained to them the reason I hadn't been there to greet them, everyone…including Andar and Gull were noticeably shocked.

"The Cult of the Dragon?"  My father asked, incredulously.  I nodded.

"Aye…I know it was a risk…but it would've been a bigger one had we not gone.  Besides…its my job…"  I paused for a minute, realizing that the information I was about to reveal to them could be dangerous for them to know …but I desperately wanted my parents to be proud of me.

"You see…I'm a Harper."

"A Harper?"  My father repeated.

"But you didn't tell me that," Tristain protested.  I shrugged.

"It wasn't safe to tell you then…it probably still isn't, but all of you deserve to know.  It was the first real thing that they've asked me to do since joining them…I had to do it, you see.  Besides…my friends and I…we do what we have to…and that was something that had to be done."

"A Harper…" my father repeated, shaking his head, amazed, but with a smile.  "Imagine that…Dalenia…our little girl."  My mother nodded, her eyes still unwaveringly on my face.

Gull didn't seem too overly impressed by the Harper thing, but when I looked over at him, he grinned.

"So…you've lightened the loads of the Sembian merchants? Well-done. my girl…well-done indeed."  He winked at me.  Despite everything else, I still was rather roguish…probably always would be…and Gull…well…when it came to thieving, he was always proud of a job well done.

Night eventually fell, and with it came dinner, and more talking.  My mother left for a while…although she seemed reluctant to do so, saying she had to check on the other kids.  I guess that my parents were giving me a bit of time to get to know them first, before springing the rest of the family upon me.  I have to say I was rather glad for that, seeing as I had enough emotional chaos to deal with at the moment without adding more fire to the stew.

After dinner, we relaxed a bit…my parents seemed loath to leave me…and I felt similarly…they weren't quite the same as they had once been…and I gather that my loss had affected them deeply.  My father was still a well-known bard...but his songs were known to be sad…melancholic…and according to Tristain, mother had not sung in a very long time…and the occasion was rare that anyone could convince her to do so.  That seemed strange to me, for I always remembered her singing…all the time.

Naturally, my father was delighted when he heard I played music…the harp and the flute…he had me drag out my harp and play for them.  I don't think I couldn't have been more self-conscious had there been a crowd of a thousand before me, and not just my family.  I suppose I did a well enough job, for no one covered their ears or ran screaming from the room.  My father insisted that I was very good…but I know that I'm not all that great, being mostly self-taught and all.  Then Tristain and father both took out their instruments…father had a harp, Tristain, a lute…and insisted that we all play together.  It's a rather good thing that I've picked up a few local songs since coming here, otherwise I don't think I would have found anything that they knew how to play, seeing as most of the songs I was most familiar with came from the Moonshaes.

Finally, it grew late, and even I have to sleep once in a while.  So I bid my family…I get such a neat feeling every time I even think that word…good night, and left for my tower.

I'd just slipped between the covers of my bed, thinking on how good it felt to be home…to finally have a place that I could call home, when I noticed that I was not alone in the room…or rather not alone in the bed.  I didn't get overly bothered, seeing as I knew whom it was.  He didn't say anything…didn't even have to, for I went into his arms willingly.  He smelled clean, and I could feel that his hair was still damp.  I rather like how Andar smells, whether clean or dirty, but I do prefer clean.  I waited for him to say something…after all, Andar was not in the habit of staying silent…especially after everything that had been happening lately.  I expected, at the very least, something about why hadn't I told him about Dazelin, but no…he seemed more determined to torture me with his silence.  So it ended up being me who spoke first.

"Are you sleeping here, tonight, then?"  I asked him.

"Do you want me to?" he answered with his own question.

"Of course," I grinned, pressing tighter against his bare chest…he never slept with a shirt on…and I…well…I don't sleep with anything on, not if I can help it.  I gather he got the idea, since he started to kiss me.  A moment later, he pushed me away, looking into my eyes.  He seemed troubled.

"Damnit Raine…don't even just leave like that…I was worried about you."

"And well you should have been, seeing as what we went to do…but anyhow, I left a letter with the good Captain," I replied, wondering what the hells this was all about.

"That's not the point, Raine!  You should have told me where you were going.  What if something had happened to you?"

"You'd not've known anyhow.  Besides, the letter explained everything… if something had gone wrong, you were supposed to bring me back."

"Bring you back?!  By the plough, Raine…you treat your life so cheaply! Do you care so little for your family…for the people here…for me…that you would throw your life away so easily?  Don't you ever think before charging into danger?"  His voice rose angrily.  I jerked away from him, feeling my own temper rise.

"I did bloody well think!  Do you honestly believe that I wanted to go after the Cult of the Dragon?"

"Yes," he snapped.

"The entire Cult?  If that's what you think, you might as well call me suicidal and get it over with!  Did it ever occur to you that reason I did it was because of you?!   Because if I hadn't gone you might've died, and I didn't want to lose you?!"  I shouted at him…then realized what I'd said, as soon as I saw the smug smile reappear in his expression.  I should never have said that…

"You still might've told me….instead you and the others just left us all here to wait for you…or wait for word of your deaths…that's not the way you treat people you love."

"I don't love you," I protested, weakly.

"Really?" he drawled…I knew he didn't believe me…Hells, I didn't even believe me…but I had to try my best to discourage his fixation with me, right?

So rather than continuing the conversation, which was just getting me in deeper trouble by the minute, I silenced him.  With Andar, the nice thing is that, no matter how hard he tries, he ultimately can't resist me.  I pinned him down and, as I usually did with Inialos, kept him quiet by never allowing my lips to leave his.  Besides, having gone over a week without sex, I was feeling rather…desperate.  Fortunately for me, he apparently decided to give up on the argument, and give in to me.  Since it was Andar, he didn't disappoint me.  The worst part…well, maybe not the worst, but the most troublesome part was what he said just before I went to sleep…"I love you."  I don't know why those words, when coming from him, bothered me so much…or maybe it bothered me because it was beginning not to bother me anymore…whatever…I hardly know what I mean anymore.

Morning came far too soon, and though he tried to be quiet, Andar woke me up as he was getting dressed.  A few months ago, I might've been annoyed at having been woken up so early, but I knew there were things to do, and a great many people I had to talk with today, and there was no sense wasting time in bed.  So I got up, and got dressed as well, and on the way out, he gave me a kiss on the cheek, another "I love you," and that same smug smile when I pushed him away.  When I went to pick up my journal this morning, I noticed that it was closed…I could've sworn that I left it open after writing yesterday night, when Andar was asleep.  At first I wondered if Andar had read it…but…no, I doubt it…he's too damned honorable for that.  I hope…

The first place I went was to eat…seeing as I was rather hungry.  From there I went over to the stables.  The first thing I noticed was that Apple and the other horses we'd left in Sembia were in their stalls.  I gather that someone from the Harpers must've brought them back, which I was rather glad of.  It gave Nym something to do.  The second thing I noticed was that Nym was doubled over, whimpering on the ground, near one of the stalls, and that there was someone standing over him, with a clenched fist.  Some one who was rather shorter than me, but with very bright, very short, red hair...  I went to Nym first, crouched down next to him.

"Nym, are you all right?"  I asked, helping him up.

"She hit me!"  He gasped.

"You deserved it!"  The "she" yelled at him.

"I only said that you were pretty…like Lady Raine,"  he defended himself.

"Well that was a stupid thing to say," the girl…yep…she was a girl, alright…and coincidently, looked like a younger version of myself…only with green eyes, short hair, and no white bangs…

"I take it back then…you're nothing but a mean, red-haired witch!"  Nym caught his breath and hurled the insult at her.  The girl's face contorted angrily, and she drew back her fist again.

"Try it again!  You won't catch me unaware this time!"  Nym beckoned, tossing his black hair out of his eyes.  Deciding it was time to intervene, I stepped between Nym and the girl…who, judging by her age, I assumed was Thera.

"Woah!  Woah!  Stop!  That's enough."  Thera glared up at me, her fists still ready, presumably to hit me instead.  Nym backed away from me, looking sheepish, all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry, Lady Raine…it's just that…"

"Nym!  Drop the Lady stuff…and don't worry about it.  I'm not angry."  I turned back to Thera…my sister.

"Now then…Thera, right?"  She nodded curtly.  "Care to explain why you're in the stables, beating up my Stable master?"  Nym stood up straighter at his "prestigious title."  

"I wanted to see the horses…he kept following me around, being annoying.  I already know about horses," she sneered past me at Nym, who gave her a dirty look.  She shrugged.  "He was bothering me…so I hit him."

"I was just trying to be nice," Nym grumbled, irritatedly.  "But you can bet it won't happen again."  Now, I felt bad for Nym, because he's a nice kid, but I recognized a bit of myself in Thera…that's really not necessarily a good thing, though.

"All right, Thera.  I'm sorry if you think Nym is being annoying, but he is also doing his job.  In the stables, Nym is in charge.  You don't know the horses well enough to know which ones might be dangerous.  And like it or not, Nym works here, and I'll thank you not to hit him."  My sister blushed quite fiercely at my little reprimand.  I turned on Nym then.

"And Nym, mind that you don't compliment my sister again, as it obviously bothers her.  And you best remember to go have another lesson with Gull…he won't be happy to hear how easily you were surprised."  Nym grinned at the first part…but then hung his head at the second.  I guess he didn't care for the idea that Gull would be disappointed in him… I couldn't help but grin, thinking that between Nym and Thera, it was like looking at reflections of my own self, 5 or 6 years ago.

"Yes, La..uh…Miss Raine,"  Nym said quietly.  I guess that "Miss" is better than "Lady", anyhow.  Thera glared at me, unlike Nym.

"I hate you!  I wish you were never found!"  Thera declared, just before running out of the stable.  I sighed…so much for diplomacy, and good first impressions.

"She probably didn't mean it, Miss Raine,"  Nym stated.  I shrugged.

"I suppose not…oh well…back to work, eh, Nym?"  I ruffled his black hair, and he grinned brightly, picking up the brush he'd dropped when Thera had slugged him, and headed back over to where he had Apple in cross ties, grooming the huge, annoying beast.

I left Nym to his business, and went back to my own.  I headed over to the barracks to have a word with Captain Takklinn, who, like myself, had been up before dawn…disgusting, isn't it?  Captain Takklinn was talking with the two sergeants, Daelric and Oren, but he quickly abandoned the conversation when I walked up.

"Well, Captain, so tell me what's been going on since I left, and who are all these new people?"  I waved at a few of the unfamiliar soldiers that walked by at that moment.

"Aye, well…we've been rather busy.  Yer friend Gull, and Jeblek have been putting together ideas for traps and such to better defend the keep…and seeing as how we still had room, I hired a few more soldiers…so long as that's all right with ye?"  I nodded my agreement.

"You know I trust your judgment, Captain Takklinn."

"Well…good, then.  So now, we've the ten from Battledale, the ten from Mistledale, and ten of our own, meself and me squire."

"Good then…and everybody's being trained?"  

"Aye…we've been figuring out who's best at what.  Jeblek's got a few of 'em learning how to use the contraptions he's building for the walls…" he gestured upwards, and I saw the "contraptions" Takklinn was speaking of….a couple thing that looked like catapults, and a few things that looked rather like giant crossbows.

"…an' we've got Sergeant Daelric working with the bow men…yer Gull's taken a few aside to work with them…says he's showing 'em how to find enemies' weakness, and how to listen and such.  Had myself a lesson with 'im, and I gotta say that the man's got more'n a few good ideas I'd like to start implementin'." 

"Do as you think is best, Captain."

"Well…let's see then…got the new ones training hard, of course…an' we're starting to get everyone here to cross trained with weapons…been having a few men ride out on a patrol circuit around the keep grounds…just in case. And yer friend…that woodsy elf fellow, 'Nialos…well, he and his cousins been around lately, keeping eyes opened for trouble in the woods."

"Very good…I have to say, I don't think that I could've made a better choice for a Captain,"  I stated, causing the dwarven man to blush.  

"Well, I don't about that…I failed ye once, already, but by Moradin's Axe, I ain't goin' to let it happen a second time!"  he swore.  "Oh…and seeing as I figured ye needed one, I hired ye a steward."

"A what?"  I asked blankly, having no idea what he was talking about.

"A steward…he'll help ye to deal with the everyday stuff about the keep…y'know, money, pay, the bees, the crops…that sort of thing.  That way I can focus on keepin' this place safe, and ready to repel attacks."

"That's a rather good idea…I suppose I should talk with this steward, huh?"

"If yer wanting to talk with 'im, I believe ye'll find him down in the store room.  He's been making lists and such.  I don't really know why.  We moved him and his wife into the room across from the priest's, up in the great hall…oh, and Miri hired herself a girl to help her out in the kitchens. Got her roomin' up in the bunk room."

"Well, it seems you've got everything in hand, then, Captain.  I'll go have a chat with this steward, and I'll be having a talk with the dwarves of Glen, over at the tower later.  I assume they're still out there.

"That's right, miss.  They've already got the foundations shored up …been getting wagons full of stones every few days now.  Oh, and yer friend 'Nialos told me to tell ye to go have a talk with him, when ye get a chance." I nodded.  Then, giving in to my curiosity, I asked,

"So…how're things with you and Kedra?"  Takklinn blushed furiously beneath his beard.

"Well…I'm not one to talk, but miss Kedra is the loveliest lass I've had occasion to set eyes on, and I've asked her to be me wife."

"Wife? Well…congratulations, Captain," I grinned.

"Me thanks, Miss Raine…mind you keep it quiet for a bit though…I've got to have words with her brother first, even though she says we'll wed whether her brother likes it or no.  I'd prefer that he did though."  Takklinn looked as proud as anything.   I left Takklinn to go about his business, heading down to the storerooms to have a word with my new steward.  The whole way over, I kept marveling over the idea.  Kedra…married?  To Takklinn?  I wondered what that would mean.  I didn't really want to lose Takklinn as my Captain, nor did I want Kedra to leave either.  After all, Kedra was about the closest thing I had to a best friend.  I figured, though, that I shouldn't borrow trouble, so I got my attention back on business.  I had a great deal to get done, and had to balance that with being able to visit with my parents more.

I found the steward exactly where Takklinn had said; making lists of the amount of stores we had on a piece of parchment.  Sean Morgan was a tall, thin man, with thick blond hair, and a mustache to match.  He had a friendly, nature, and he introduced himself in a brisk, no-nonsense kind of way.  He quickly impressed me with his grasp of mathematics and attention to detail.  He already had everything pretty much in order, and had plenty of questions for me.  I had a like amount for him, since I wished to know the inner workings of my keep as well as everyone who worked here did.  Sean struck me as an honest man, and when it comes to people, I've noticed that I'm not often wrong in my initial impressions of them.  So, after answering his questions, I took my leave of him.  I met his wife Katie, later, at dinner.  She was a nice enough women….dark hair, and a bit stocky, but possessed of a cheerful nature.  She was not officially employed, I gathered, but had taken to helping out in the kitchen, or helping the girls clean…so I offered her a salary as well.

Now, after talking with Sean, Tristain caught up with me, apparently awake early as well…although it already a few hours after sunrise by that point.  He followed me out to the woods, where I was having the tower built.  I was glad of his company, and felt rather comfortable with his presence.  He talked quite a bit, but I've learned, that as much as I have trouble shutting my mouth, Tristain is even worse.  It's hard to describe how I feel about my brother…I guess I mostly feel…whole when I'm with him.  With him, I don't feel the least bit awkward…as though all the time and distance meant nothing, and we were just as we had once been.  It's a good feeling.

The dwarves of Glen were already up and working.  I went to have a word with the one who was generally in charge…a rather grizzled old dwarf, Bruin, who just happened to be Takklinn's grandfather.  I thanked them for their aid, when they'd come to help with the whole Cult thing.  They actually seemed insulted by my thanks, grumbling that they were only doing their duty…after all hadn't they built the keep?  And were they going to let it get taken over by dragon-kissing scum?  By Moradin, no!  And wasn't the keep the best protection that the village of Glen had…so I gave up on trying to thank them, and let them show Tristain and I around the construction site, explaining what they intended to do.  I told them the few definite things that I wanted them to do…mostly involving a rather complicated maze in the sub-basement, which would make it harder for people to find the passage into Lyklor's hall, and the keep, and vice versa.  The tower and the keep were connected, but by the Earthmother, I certainly wasn't going to make it easy for people to go between the two.  As with before, the dwarves claimed I was daft, but they agreed to do as I wished.

We went back to the keep a little while later, to find that pretty much everyone was up and about in the keep…and there were a lot of people living there now.  

I spent the morning talking more with my parents, and met my other sister, Joslyn.  Joslyn, as Tristain had warned me, was everything that drove me nuts in a member of my own sex.  She was one of those perfect…girls.  She was wearing a dainty, ruffly dress that was immaculately clean, with every thing in its place.  Her hair, also red like mine, was done in perfect curls that must have taken her all morning to get that way.  She hated getting dirty…I found that out around lunch time, when she nearly threw a tantrum over a few specks of dirty that she'd gotten on her…white…shoes.  She toted this doll everywhere with her…and the doll looked exactly like a miniature version of herself.  She even walked prissily…however, her reaction to me was far less…volatile than Thera's had been.  She smiled prettily, and told me in a rehearsed sounding voice, how glad she was that Tristain had found me…and maybe we could be best friends…then it went downhill again, as she added that sisters should always be best friends…and Thera certainly wasn't her best friend…and as a matter of fact, Thera was mean to her, and always getting her dirty, and trying to toss her doll into the mud…and I wouldn't be like that, would I?  I nearly choked…because I new that there was no way Joslyn would like me when she realized that I was always out in the fields, covered in dust and dirt…or out adventuring, covered in…less-savory  substances.  I did however promise to her that I would try very hard…and oh…it would be so hard….but the teary smile on my mother's face when I said that made the promise and the effort all worthwhile.

After lunch, I began to realize just what Andar had been up to…only at the time, I didn't realize that it was only the beginning of his…sneakiness.

My parents, while I took them on a tour around the keep's grounds, casually brought up the subject of Andar.  I shrugged and told them that he was my lover, trying my best to sound nonchalant about it…after all, there was no sense lying about it.  Then my mother began to go on about what a "nice boy" Andar was, and how wonderful he'd been since they arrived… making certain they were comfortable, answering all their questions…then my father went on to add that he'd had a "talk" with the "boy," and that Andar seemed an honorable enough sort…good-upstanding lad…and a priest of Chauntea…couldn't do much better than that.  I realized then just what Andar had done…he'd bloody well seduced my parents, was what he'd done!  They thought he was good as gold, and I knew straight off that there wouldn't be a bloody thing I could say to change their minds.  I wondered exactly what he'd told them to get them to think that he was so "nice."  Feeling a bit wicked, I mentioned that they might get to meet some of my other lovers, Inialos and Dazelin…and was rather annoyed when they exchanged this cryptic smile, and didn't get upset in the slightest….I knew it!  That priest was up to no good…why else wouldn't my parents get upset when I told them I had more than one lover?  I wonder how many other lies he'd told them?  

Feeling a bit spiteful…not at my parents, but at Andar, I told my parents that I had a bit of an errand to run  They didn't mind, and as I headed off towards the woods, I saw that the "wonderful" Andar had walked up from the fields to meet them.  

Now I suppose it was petty of me, but when I sought out Inialos…and it wasn't hard, seeing as he'd been on his way to the keep anyhow…I sought him out, not to talk with him, but to annoy Andar.  Only I quickly found out that Andar had been…busier than I could've dreamed.

Inialos greeted me warmly when I found him, and began his usually chatter, which involved a great many questions that he didn't really allow me to answer, such as "how are you?" and "how have things been?"  He proceeded to tell me that he hadn't had any news yet about the Kelerandri family, but that a friend of his, who had gone to Evermeet, was said to be coming back in a few weeks, and he would surely know.  Now, normally, with Inialos, I hardly have to offer him any encouragement to commence with kissing, and what not…but this time…well, every time I tried to catch his eyes in my usually teasing manner, he quickly turned away.  Finally, I gave up on the subtlety, and kissed him.  He did not kiss back, and he pulled away almost immediately.

"What?"  I asked him.  He shook his head.

"We'd better not, Raine.  Your…uh…priest friend might not like it."  Oh that instantly threw me into a fit of pique.

"And what has he got to do with anything?!"  I demanded.  Inialos looked a bit nervous, and was rather quiet…a first on both accounts.

"Well…he…might not like it…and I don't want to make him upset.  Besides…it's really rather impolite to…uh…touch another man's woman…"

"What?!"  I nearly shrieked, outraged.  

"Um…well…how about I'll talk to you tomorrow, Raine?  Ok?  Or in a few days…well, I have to be going, I'll see you later, ok? Bye."  Then Inialos left, heading quickly back into the woods.  I don't think he was really scared of me, only scared of getting into trouble with…the priest.  Oh, so this was the game he wanted to play?  Well fine…he could warn off Inialos…but Inialos, while a nice enough guy, was easily intimidated, where as others were not.  There was no way he could scare Dazelin away…Dazelin would be far too unimpressed by Andar to fall for his threats.  So with that though in mind, I went back to the keep, saddled up Apple, and told everyone else I'd be back by nightfall…and if I wasn't, I'd see them all tomorrow.  I was in such a temper that I hardly noticed that I'd not seen Guar or Violet all day.

I was a bit calmer by the time I'd ridden down to Dazelin house, although Apple was a bit tired.  Ignoring my innate unease around horses, I'd ridden hell-bent from the keep to Ashabenford.  I took a few moments to catch my breath, and to get the horse some water before going inside.  I thought I managed to look rather nonchalant when I walked into the store.  Dazelin was sitting behind the counter in the back of the store, pouring over some book.  He hardly even glanced up as I walked in.

"Oh…hello, Raine.," he muttered.  '"Back already, are you?"

"Aye."  He finally managed to look up from what he was doing.

"So…out causing more damage to the Cult of the Dragon?"  I nodded.

"Want to hear about it?"  I asked.  He shrugged.

"If you want…"  So I told him the bare bones of what I'd been up to the past few days.  He didn't seem overly surprised to hear how trouble we'd all gotten into, but he did seem mildly impressed at my tale of the battle between the two dragon gods.  He told me that he heard my family had arrived, and that my memory had returned.  It took me less than an hour to realize that something was up…and as with Inialos, hardly more than one kiss to realize that something was wrong.

That miserable, rotten, no-good, sneaky, conniving, devious, trouble-making, awful…priest had done the impossible…he'd managed to get to Dazelin too.

Needless to say, I was furious.  I knew my kiss had aroused Dazelin… hells, I felt it through his robes, just to prove it to him…but even as I complained that I was bored, and I knew he wanted me…Dazelin told me that if I was bored, I should read a book…handed me one such object, then added that it didn't matter whether or not he wanted me…all that mattered was that he didn't intend on doing anything about it.  At that point I wanted to know what Andar had said…as I said…I never thought there would've much anyone could say to scare Dazelin off…but whatever Andar had said or done...well, it must've been something ingenious, for Dazelin was not one to give up self-gratification …ever.

"So…what did…the priest…" I couldn't even say his name at the moment, "…say to warn you off?"  I asked him, in a very tense tone, sitting stiffly in my chair.  

"Ah…finally you ask the right question,"  Dazelin stated, raising one eyebrow.

"Hmm…where to begin? Well, first he tried reason…told me that he loved you…which I already knew…more the fool, him…then he said that he wouldn't share you with anyone any longer…threatened something about a prayer he knew for making male-parts impotent, so to speak.  Now, I know that your little priest is far too much of a "good" person to carry through such a threat… love or not…and besides threats and love don't really intimidate or move me.  I wasn't about to give up a mutually enjoyable relationship over nonsense like that.  Then, he blackmailed me."  I knew my eyes must've widened dramatically, for Dazelin smiled, and chuckled.

"Yes, rather hard to believe that the boy had it in him, isn't it?  I mean, he's rather not in our caliber of ruthlessness…but I suppose love does make people act rather foolish."  He proceeded to give me a pointed look, with I pointedly ignored.

"Basically, he said that given that he is a priest of a well-known and respected church, and given that I am a dark-elf with a rather new, and tenuous reputation, who did I think the people of this area would believe if he said that I was selling faulty goods?  Myself, or him?  Now, as you well know Raine, I am a businessman, and I can't afford the loss that such a blow to my reputation would cause, whether or not I think your little human lover would go through with that particular threat.  So you see, I was forced to concede with his wishes… and while I have enjoyed our…relationship, I'm afraid we shall just have to remain friends, of a less…sexual nature."

"He actually black-mailed you?"  I was completely shocked.

"Indeed," Dazelin replied, with a wry smile.  "As I've said…it's rather amazing the things that humans do for their silly love, don't you think?"  Now at that point, there was no way that Dazelin could not have know how very furious I was at the moment, but with his very best amused voice, he added…

"At least with me, he kept our…business quiet…but I must say, he's rather outdone himself in trying to keep all of the eligible men in the area out of your…rather arousing grasp.  However, if you don't believe me…or you would like to witness the magnitude of what your priest has been up to, go have one of the bards down at the taverns sing you the newest song that's been around town, hmmm?"  If I didn't know better…oh wait, I do…Dazelin was enjoying this.  I guess he figured if he could no longer enjoy me, he might as well sit back and watch the show.  

Needless to say that my temper was nearly as hot as my hair is red, by the time I got to the tavern and heard the new "song."  The song was basically about me…my "great deeds," my "stunning beauty," and my "dangerous lover."  The threats were hardly veiled, and since I've yet to meet a man who wasn't obsessively worried that something might befall his precious male body part, the threats were incredibly effective.  Men from Ashabenford who'd previously flirted with me, now turned the other direction if I looked towards them…and of course the song was so cleverly written by some local bard, that it was spreading all through out the dalelands.  In short, Andar had completely taken control of my life…at least the one respect where I'd always had control, since I was 16.  There wouldn't be a decent man within a hundred miles willing to risk Andar's "wrath" to touch me.  I suppose it was a good thing that Andar was nowhere nearby at the moment, or else I'm certain I would have made him very sorry for his actions. 

It was after dark by the time I'd arrived back home.  Dinner was already over, but that was fine, since I wasn't feeling very hungry after all.  My rage, which had been almost to the point of out-of-control, like Guar's tended to get in battle, had settled, until, I merely felt hurt, and upset.  I couldn't believe that Andar had done this to me.  I hadn't really been planning on sleeping with Inialos…or Dazelin for that matter…I'd only even though of it because I was angry with him.  But now…it was like he taken all my choices away…and he obviously didn't trust me at all.  That hurt.  

Since the gates were already shut for the night, someone had had to get Captain Takklinn to authorize it being opened.  When I got back inside the keep, I immediately notice that Captain Takklinn had a black eye, and a split lip that hadn't been there when I'd spoken with him earlier.  I roused enough feeling to be concerned, and asked him what had happened.  He explained that he and Kedra's brother, Keberk had had their little "talk,"  and come to an agreement.  He then went on to say he and Kedra would be working out the details, so they could get married as soon as possible.  He grinned happily, saying that he didn't want to wait very long.  Wearily, I managed a smile for him, and told him that I'd talk to Kedra in the morning.  I dropped Apple off at the stable, with hardly a word of greeting to Nym.  I did not go to my tower, but instead, to the great hall, and up the stairs to the second floor.  There was light coming out from under the door, and I didn't bother knocking as I walked into Andar's room.

He was sitting at a table, cutting up some dried herbs, or some such thing, but he immediately looked up, and set down the knife as I walked in.  He was smiling, but it faded when he saw the expression on my face.

"How…dare...you do this to me?"  I dragged the words out, letting him hear my hurt.

"Do what?" he asked.

"You know damned well!"  I growled.  He sat up straighter and turned to face me completely.

"No…really…which one of the things do you wish to know about?" He asked, far too calmly.

"I know everything!  How could you?  It's bad enough you have my parents thinking you're bloody perfect, and I could do no better than you…I can't believe you threatened Inialos and Dazelin…but that song….that horrible song!  How could you lie like that?  How could you do that to me?!  Doesn't it matter to you that you've completely taken away my control…my choices?"  My voice hardly rose above a whisper, but I made my point.

"I am sorry, Raine…sorry that I've made you feel that way…but the rest…no…I'm not sorry for it.  And the song…it wasn't completely a lie…when I see another man touch you…it makes me want to hurt them for doing so…maybe it was a lie in that I wouldn't go so far as to use a spell…to abuse my power for personal reasons, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't hurt them.  I love you…more than anyone or anything else in this world…you have to know that by now.  I told you once, a long time ago, that I'm not casual about relationships…and I'm not casual about you.  You are the best thing in my life…what I did, I did out of my love for you.  I hate knowing that you have other lovers…I'm selfish, in that I suppose, since I want you to myself."

"Why didn't you just say that to me…instead of doing…this?"  I asked.  He stood up, a flash of anger, now, in his eyes.

"I've tried…but you won't listen…you keep pushing me away, when I know…I _know_**,** that you love me too!  You keep using your past and that damnable, non-exisistant curse as a way to hide behind your own fear that someone might actually love you, and not just want to have sex with you!  I figured cutting you off from your…lovers…was the only way I can show you that I'm serious. And unless you can prove to me that you truly don't love me…that you don't love me, and you don't want me…I'll make certain that no other man goes near you.  But I don't think you can…" He stated, eyes flashing with intensity.

"I hate you!"  I shouted, angrily at him.

"No, you don't," he replied easily…then he moved forward, and kissed me.  I almost fell for it…almost gave in, and began to relax, began kissing him in return.  Fortunately, I remembered my anger…and how he'd hurt me with his lack of trust…although, how can I say that I deserve his trust, when I've done nothing to earn it?

"No!  Fine…have it your way!  But understand this…I won't sleep with you either.  I'd rather go without than let you touch me again!"  I jerked away from him.  There was a flash of pain…but then it was gone, and he actually smiled!

"We'll see," he stated, confidently.  Before he could say more…or gods forbid, try to test my resolve, I bolted from the room, slamming the door shut behind me.  I felt that strange sensation yet again, and I was halfway to my tower, when I realized that my cheeks were wet, and it wasn't raining.  I stopped, staring at the moisture on my fingertips in horror.  I don't cry!  Yet, that was the only reason for the tears, wasn't it?  Furious with myself, for being so weak, I harshly rubbed the wetness away with my knuckles…only to have more appear a moment later.  By the time I got to my bedroom, I was in the middle of full-fledged hysterics…me!!  I was crying…leaking tears like a full bucket with a hole in it…these awful choking sobs kept coming from me, and I started throwing things around my room, in the hopes that destruction would help calm the awful things I was feeling.  How dare he….I hate him…I kept thinking that…but then, it was things more to the effect of: I don't deserve him…and did I just ruin everything?  I might've continued the rampage, but when I got to my wardrobe and flung it open…I saw all the things that Andar had bought for me…each dress and item, perfectly made, just for me.  He must've know my measurements very well to have had them made right …must've know them by heart, seeing as I certainly hadn't left any clothing lying around that he could've used as an example.  And the song…that horrible song…I was furious over the part where he'd been portrayed as my "dangerous, jealous" lover…but the rest of the song…it had been rather nice…complimentary, actually…making me out to be some sort of beautiful heroine…but was I thinking about that at all?  No…of course not.  It occurred to me, that I was acting a bit like Thera…who'd hit Nym for daring to compliment her.  Was I, then, acting like a child…punishing Andar for daring to love me…using a hundred reasons and excuses to try to reject that love because I was afraid of it?  The very thought only had me crying harder.  I hardly know what's wrong with me lately…I've been acting so horrible.  

It seemed I was there for a long while, on the floor in front of the wardrobe.  I never heard the door open below, and I never heard their footsteps coming up the stairs.  Arms lifted me up from the floor, and held me, like a baby.  I recognized the smell…even after all these years, my father still smells the same as he did when I was a little girl.  It's not something I can describe really, only that he smells pleasant, and safe, and comforting…like a father.  I heard my parents' murmured voices, catching bits of what they were saying.

"…shhh…it'll be all right, baby,"  my father whispered to me, as he carried me over to the bed.

"…too much all at once…"  I heard my mother say.  "…must be very hard for her…"  They sat with me for a while, holding me, while I sobbed like some sort of bloody, overgrown baby.  I've heard the term "crying yourself to sleep," before, but I never thought I'd experience it.  Still, that's pretty much what I did…kept crying until I had no energy left in me, until all I could do was make these really quiet hiccupping noises…and about then was when I fell asleep, feeling the safest I'd felt in years, held in my parents' arms.

When I woke up the next morning, it was to the rather unfamiliar sensation of wearing clothing while in a bed.  I was still wearing my long, white, undershirt, although the rest of my clothing had been neatly folded and put on a chair.  I knew this to be my parents' handiwork, for I'm far fonder of throwing my clothes down where ever they happened to fall.  I sat up slowly, feeling rather drained, still, but also refreshed, strangely enough.  The rest of my room was clean as well, all the things I had thrown about in my temper were picked up, if not necessarily in the same places they had been when I began.  There was sunlight streaming in through the tower's windows…far brighter than the average, early morning, light that I was used to. I figured it to be closer to noon than dawn, as I managed to drag myself out of bed.  I got up, had a bath, dressed, and rebraided my hair…and then ran out of things to stall with.  I knew I had to go outside…things to do, and all that…but I didn't really want to.  At the moment, I felt rather cowardly, in that I really didn't want to face Andar, or my parents, or anyone else who might have seen or heard my little tantrum. Now, finally I managed to convince myself to stop being such a child, and I headed for the front door.  The last thing I was expecting was a trap set up on my own front door, so when I opened the door, and a bucket of water that had to have come from the moat fell directly on top of my head, I was…surprised to say the least.  I looked up, and in my shock, I heard telltales giggles.  It took me less than a second to seek out the giggler…who was obviously responsible…a boy…no older than ten years older, was hiding in the shadows, near Mr. Chitters' house.  It might have been an effective hiding spot, had he not been laughing over the success of his prank.  Now, he had short, glossy, black hair, and freckles, but his face and his eyes looked exactly like Tristain…and my father.  So this, then, was Beckett, the last of my siblings.  And a ruddy little demon…I could tell that just by looking at him.  Thinking to get revenge, I decided to scare dear, little Beckett.  It was a good idea, really, but it's a pity that it didn't work.

"Mr. Chitters!"  I called.  "Get him!"  I pointed at Beckett.  Fortunately, Mr. Chitters was in his house at the moment, and the huge weasel stuck his pink nose out, and jumped at Beckett.  Now, since I hadn't used the proper command, I knew that Mr. Chitters wouldn't actually hurt my little brother, but I was hoping that the dire weasel would at least scare the pants off Beckett…but then I hadn't counted on Beckett being such a little monster…

So Mr. Chitters jumped at Beckett, knocking him over, and sniffing menacingly at the little boy's face.  Beckett did not shriek in terror as anticipated, but rather shouted,

"Wow!  Neat!  What is it?  A dog?  That's so great!  I want a dog…but Mom and Dad said no, 'cause a dog'll make a mess.  Jos's got a cat, but it's such a boring thing…"  Mr. Chitters didn't seem to know how to deal with this non-screaming kind of response, so he sniffed, backed away, then sneezed horribly, spraying weasel snot all over Beckett.

"Oh, gross!"  Beckett exclaimed, but did not seemed at all distraught, as he wiped at his tunic, and his face.  A bit annoyed that my "prank" had failed, I strode over to Beckett and hauled him up by the belt.  He didn't seem at all impressed at my strength, or the glare I was directing at him.

"You think dumping moat water on me is funny, huh?"

"Yes," he replied, unabashedly.  "But not as funny as the time I put mud all over Jos's mattress, then put the sheet up, so she didn't know until it was too late.  She shrieked for hours!  It was bloody wicked."  Again, he didn't look in the least bit ashamed.

"Well, you think getting other people dirty is so funny?  How about if I toss you in the moat, and see if you can out swim the moat monster?"  I asked him, in a dire tone.

"You've got a moat monster?  Wow!  Can I see it?  Do you feed it your enemies for dinner?  Well?  Let's have a look then!"  He grinned, crossing his arms, determinedly, as though he weren't suspended three feet off the ground by his belt.

"By Tymora…you're insufferable!"  

"Aye…that's what Tris always says…like right after this one time I stuffed his boots full of poison ivy…and with him being allergic to it and all…I thought he was going to thrash me bloody!"

"You need a good spanking, is what you need, brat!"  I muttered.

'Me?  A spanking?  Never happen!  I'm the baby, and no one spanks the baby, don't you know?"  He grinned, impishly.  I was having a hard time maintaining my irritability, seeing as he was being so cheerful…even if he was a rotten imp. Just then, I saw my mother approaching.

"OH!  Beckett!! What have you done!?" She exclaimed.

"It was just a joke, Mom.  I thought that Tressa would feel more like my sister, if I pulled a prank on her, like I do everyone else!"

"Oh Tressa, darling, I'm sorry.  Look, and you were all clean.  Beckett!  How could you?"

"Easy enough…a bucket and a bit of string, was all…really.  And a bit of moat water, of course.  D'y'know Tressie's got a moat monster?  D'you think I could catch it and put it in the pond back home, Mom?"

"Honestly, Beckett…your stories!  Here Tressa, love.  I'll take him, so you can go clean up again."  Reluctantly, I released the brat to my mother…I was rather disappointed that I'd yet to scare my little brother.  Now it would have to be a goal, damn it all.

"Beckett won't do anything like this again, will you Beckett?"  My mother extracted from him.

"Oh no…nothing like _this_ again, I swear…by Erevan…"

"I heard that!"  Mother said.

"Don't worry, Mom…"  There was a happy sparkle in her eyes when I said that, and I felt my mood lift up a bit more. 

"I've got ways of handling annoying little boys,"  I grinned menacingly at him.

"Oh, you just bring 'em on, sis!  I can take whatever you dish out!"  He declared, happily.  So be it…let the war begin.

Now, I have to get Beckett a bit of thanks, I though as my mother dragged him off…he'd certainly managed to distract me from my self-pity, which was getting rather disgusting.  I have to say, annoying as he was, I rather liked Beckett…reminded me of all the horrid pranks I pulled on Lana, at the church back on the Moonshaes.  Of course, I finally drove Lana off…but there's was no way I was going to let Beckett win this little battle of wills.

I didn't bother to go in and bathe all over again, but rather went out to the pond, in the woods, to the northeast of the keep, and washed up, clothes and all.  So my clothes were wet for a while…it was a warm, bright summer day, and they dried out quickly enough.  Then I headed back to get to work.

Now the next few weeks went by really quickly for me…and in some ways, incredibly slowly.  To start, my parents were there the whole time…and being with them was great.  Gull seemed to take a liking to Beckett, and in the afternoons, he would be out training Beck and Nym, and a few of the soldiers he chosen for their quickness, and intelligence.  The really annoying thing was, that no matter how hard, or what I tried, I simply could not faze Beckett.  The little monster was unshakable, and turned the most horrid things I could come up with into some sort of wonderful game.  Brat.

  Mom and Dad were great…we talked all the time…about all sorts of things…silly and serious and everywhere in between.  They were very much the same parents they'd been, only a bit older, and a bit wiser.  With them, and Gull around, I think on the "curse," and wonder how I could've believed it.  I guess that all the others were right….the deaths had been an awful coincidence, and in my loneliness, I'd used the curse to protect myself.

 Tristain and I became as close as we once were…I had a lot of fun just being with him…even more competing with him…for while I could best him at swords, he could defeat me in music…so we both worked hard to try beat the other…but it wasn't a competition in that either of us wanted to win, so much as it was a way to pass the time together.

Now, I did make a bit of headway with Thera, especially when I learned she was fascinated with horses, and so, I let her ride Apple when she wanted to.  She was rather a bit of a tomboy, I quickly learned, hence her reason for not wishing to be reminded that she was a girl.  She liked fighting and fencing and such, so I gave her a few lessons, and she then decided I was the greatest, and practically shadowed me everywhere.

However, where as I upped Thera's opinion of me, I rather lowered Joslyn's, when she realized that I was not all she had expected. I gather that Joslyn had hoped I would be like her, since Beckett and Thera are more like Tris.  In attempts to spend time with my whole family, I ended up alienating Joslyn, because she didn't seem to like to do anything that might cause her to get dirty, or sweaty…and since she wasn't overly musically inclined, she didn't really join in when Tristain, Dad, and myself would play.  

I found out where my voice came from…when people had said that I had my mother's voice when I was younger, they weren't joking…she had the same voice, in that she could hit glass-shattering notes.  She explained it to me, when I told her how I could scream.  Then she began to show me how I could better control my voice so I wouldn't actually break the glass.  My father had this expression of utter happiness when he convinced my mother and I to sing together one night.  I swear, he looked like he was about to cry, and afterwards, he give me this huge hug, and told me how much he loved me…how he'd missed me.  My parents seemed to tell me that they loved me, everyday, and I hearing the words wasn't bother me as much.

My parents, of course, met all of my friends, including Lyklor, Dazelin, and Inialos.  I bet you can guess who they were most shocked at seeing…I thought for a moment that my mother was going to faint when she learned that one of my former lovers was a drow…but Dazelin, surprisingly enough, managed to impress her…and she got over her initial shock.  I was rather amazed that he wasn't being as completely bastaradly as he usually was.

Inialos finally turned up with some rather interesting news about the Kelerandri family.  His friend had told him that most of the family had left for Evermeet during something called the retreat…when most of the elves left the mainland, for some sort of hidden elven island, farther out than the Moonshaes.  However, the Kelerandri's were rumored to be on their way back from Evermeet, along with the many other elves said to be returning to regain the elven homes in Cormanthyr.  But there was, apparently, one other Kelerandri still in the area…apparently, she'd gotten in a bit of trouble when she'd married a human man, and had not left for Evermeet, because she had wanted to stay with her husband and children...he'd heard that she was living down in Archendale, and that she'd married some famous bard.  Of course, about that time my mother walked up, and asked me why I was looking for the Kelerandri family.  I explained to her that I had done so as a promise to Lyklor…that he was a ghost who haunted the keep, because it stood over an old Kelerandri crypt that he guarded.  My mother laughed, and stated that before she married my father, she had been Dalenia Kelerandri.  Inialos, being who he was, nodded his head, obliviously, and said,

"Dalenia…aye, that was her name."

So, I took mother down to see the crypts and meet Lyklor.  The elven ghost seemed very happy to see one of his descendants, and less chagrined that I'd managed to get into the crypt, now that he knew that I shared the same blood as he did.  Apparently, those of the Kelerandri family were able to pass the wards with no difficulty.  Needless to say, I was rather amused at that particular little irony.  Mother was rather surprised that one of my friends happened to be a ghost, but after meeting Dazelin, Guar, and Kedra, I don't really think it was _that_ shocking to her.

Now, speaking of Guar, two days after we returned from the Cult thing, I finally saw him.  He was wandering around the keep, helping out wherever he saw the need…but he had this grin on his face…that cat that just caught the mouse kind of grin.  His chest seemed rather more puffed out than usual, and after seeing Violet hanging all over him, I figured out rather quickly that Guar had finally scored with his ladylove.

A couple days after that, a well awaited…at least for Kedra, anyhow…event occurred…Isis finally laid her eggs.  Rossal and Isis were flitting about constantly, and Kedra said that it would probably be a few weeks before the eggs hatched.

Of course, then there was Kedra and Takklinn themselves.  Kedra finally showed up, brightly telling me every detail of how wonderful Takklinn was, and how they were going to be married as soon as possible, seeing as how she didn't want some other "woman" getting her "Captain."  I would have laughed, but I saw that she was rather serious.  She pestered me with details of the wedding…apparently she'd coerced Ranearal into agreeing to teleport herself, Takklinn, and Keberk up to her home, some where near Citadel Abdar…I think.  So, about four weeks after the proposal, the left for a few days, leaving me without a Captain.  They got married by a dwarven priest, up with Kedra's parents, then Ranearal teleported them back when that was over, to have the wedding "party" with the dwarves of Glen, and Takklinn's family.  Shortly after that, Ranearal left the keep, for points unknown, and I haven't seen him since.  Come to think of it, Aiyana, also left, when she realized that Guar Kedra and I had no intentions of setting out again for a while.  Back to the woods, I suppose.

  Needless to say, Kedra and Takklinn invited me, and most of the people at the keep down to the party.  Now, the first thing I learned about dwarven parties…be they wedding or otherwise, they're great if you like lots of drink…and I do mean lots…hells, their holy water isn't even water…its mead!  I also learned that dwarves like to talk, more than they let on when you first meet them…unfortunately, like Inialos, they tend towards long-windedness …so their songs, jokes, and speeches seemed to take hours.  Kedra looked… interesting in her wedding…apron, but I have to say, that my friend looked completely happy, and she and Takklinn kept sneaking kisses, and giving each other these…looks…it was rather nauseating…or maybe that was just my stomach…which had starting bothering me the day before, and hadn't let up yet.  So, I didn't really get to enjoy the party as much as I might've, seeing as the first drink I took caused me to lose my breakfast, lunch, and dinner…and had all the dwarves laughing about what a "sissy elf" I was.  For a wedding present, I gave Kedra and Takklinn the magic tower that had once been Sinyalla's.  I told them to pick a spot, somewhere not too far from the keep, and, so long as it wasn't in the middle of the field, that they could set the tower up there, and use it as a house.  My reasons were not completely altruistic, since I figured that if Takklinn lived nearby, he'd decide to stay on as my Captain. 

Shortly after the wedding, Isis's eggs were close to hatching.  Now initially, Kedra and I thought we'd make some money off the eggs by selling them to wizards, as Dazelin claimed wizards would be willing to pay a great deal of money to have a pseudo-dragon for a familiar…but of course, we didn't.  Isis had laid five eggs, and we ended up convincing Isis that her "babies" would be happy having their very own "pets"…which is what Isis apparently thought of Kedra as…to play with.  So we ended up giving one to Nym…who is very good with animals, besides just horses.  The half-elf was shocked…he hadn't known that I knew how much he liked to watch the pseudo-dragons when he wasn't dealing with the horses.  I guess he'd never even considered that he might get one…which made it that much more special to give him one.  Isis was happy as well, seeing as that meant that one of her babies would still be at the keep.  Isis kept one of the eggs to raise, herself.  We gave one to a farmer's girl who occasionally played down by the fields.  We gave the fourth to a little dwarf boy, and against my better judgment…I gave one to Beckett.  I just knew that was a bad idea the minute it hatched and he named the baby pseudo-dragon Quicksilver, in honor of the great dragon companion of the elven god of tricksters, Erevan…whom my brother claimed was the greatest of all the gods because he was the funniest. Still, I couldn't very well change my mind seeing as how Beckett was completely enamored with Quicksilver, and the pseudo-dragon with him…. besides, it kept him out of my hair, so to speak. 

Of course, everything wasn't great, though…as a matter of fact, there was one major annoyance in my life, during all these goings on…and his name was Andar Hawklight.

Now, seeing as I'm a rather stubborn, I decided to keep my little vow not to sleep with him.  I figured it would only take a day or two for him to give in…which would mean that I regained the control he'd stolen from me.  Unfortunately, that…man…has far more willpower than I gave him credit for.  And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he's been deliberately taunting me.  He doesn't act like this is any hardship for him at all!  He goes about his business, but he's begun to make it a habit to do his work, while shirtless…he gives me this annoying little kiss on the cheek every morning, just like before, and calls me "his love," then walks off, whistling, merrily.  He's making me crazy!  I've never gone this long without a man in my entire life, and he walks around, teasing me.  He knows exactly what he's doing, the calculating bastard!  And that little…song, he inspired some bard to create has worked far too well, especially since it's so "well-written."  There isn't a decent man within any of the surrounding areas who'll so much as touch me…and the really scary thing is that I'm not even interested anymore.  I mean, I probably could've found a quick tumble…but  I looked at other men now, and while I liked what I saw, I no longer felt aroused…not even by Dazelin, and the gods know that he's probably the best lover I've ever had.  And I've been having dreams…not the kind of dreams that I share with Tristain, where we can talk to each other… but… well…rather different kind of dreams.  And all of these new dreams involved Andar…usually in various states of undress.  I can't seem to get him out of my mind, and he's always around, making things worse.  If this is love, then love is going to make me insane.

  To make matters worse, I've nothing to do to distract myself!  Dove stopped by a few days after the Cult thing, to thank me and the others for what we'd done, although, she told me, we hadn't had to go so far as to take on the Cult ourselves.  What were we supposed to do, I asked…wait for bloody reinforcements?  From where?  Dove had to reluctantly agree that the Harpers didn't have many agents down in that part of the world.  She told us to take a rest…and since then, it's like not one bloody interesting, or even remotely dangerous thing has happened since then.   I got so bored that I went wandering around in the woods for a bit, until I ran across some goblins to beat up… goblins! For Tymora's sake!  

Fortunately, my parents hadn't made any sounds of leaving yet, so at least I had my family to keep me occupied…oh, and incidentally, I found out that my birthday is really the 17th day of Flamerule, and not the 22nd of Eleasis, which is the day I've always celebrated it on…funny…for all these years I've been celebrating the day I was kidnapped.  That meant, that I would be turning 23 in two weeks, and not a month, as I'd previously thought.

  Anyhow, with Guar drooling all over Violet… Kedra setting up her new home, a mile or two to the southeast of the keep…Dazelin off at some sort of festival to his goddess, Elistraee, and Andar being so bloody annoying, I had nothing to do.

So, I swallowed my pride, and I gave in first.  I finally told Andar that I couldn't take it any more…I missed him…and I meant it.  For a moment, I saw the gleam of triumph in his brown eyes, but he hid it quickly, even as I squelched the desire to hit him, or say something I would probably regret…then he said something that really made me want to hurt him.

"Well…I miss you as well, Raine.  The truth of the matter is, that I hate having to do this, but it is what you wanted."

"And I've just said that you win…I want you…I even tried to…um…talk to other men…but…damnit…I don't want other men, anymore!"  I explained to him, even though it nearly killed me to let him know the power he had over me.

"I want you too, Raine…but…want isn't enough anymore.  What I mean is that I want more than just having you in my bed…I want to know that you'll always be mine…forever."  I backed away from him, a bit nervous, all of a sudden.

"What are you saying?"

"Just that I love you Raine…and I love being with you.  I love your smile, and your voice…I love everything about you…you're really the most wonderful person I know…and…well…I want to marry you."  He was serious…dead serious.  

"What?  Are you crazy?  Why do you want to do that?  I don't want to get married...it'll ruin everything!"  I protested.  "Why can't we just go back to the way we were?!"

"Because that isn't enough anymore, my love.  I want to be able to call you my wife…and I refuse to do you further dishonor by…having relations with you," he blushed…he never was good at hiding anything. "…outside of marriage."

"You can't be serious?  Where are you getting these mad ideas?  Who have you been drinking with? Takklinn?  I'll knock that dwarf silly if he's the one who gav…"

"Raine…this is no one's idea but my own.  The truth is, I've wanted to marry you since the day I realized I was in love with you."

"When was that?"  I asked, backing up.

"The day I met you…when I you first walked up to my table at the Shieldmeet festival…not like I ever thought I had a chance with someone like you.  But then you showed up at the temple…Raine… If I had had the chance, I would've courted you, like you deserve…I didn't then, because I wasn't willing to risk losing you to someone more willing to give you what you…wanted."

"I can't…I…I don't want to get married!"  I shook my head, feeling that awful feeling again…I knew I was about to cry…again! 

"Then things will have to stay the way they are…I can't dishonor you any longer…especially not with your parents here."

"I'll make them go!"  I choked…for I didn't really want my parents to leave yet.  Andar just shook his head, gently, smiling, but not as brightly as before.

"That wouldn't change anything…I'm patient…I'll wait for you…however long you need."  

"Then you'll wait forever!"  I managed to declare, before turning and running to my tower.  I got to my room, and threw myself down on my bed, before I started crying.  I couldn't understand why he was making this so difficult.  I gave him what he wanted…he'd won!  He had the control…not me!  Why did he have to make things harder…make both of us suffer for his stubbornness?!

I managed to calm down before I really got hysterical…but then I felt my stomach lurch.  I just barely made it to the chamber pot before I threw up.  Apparently whatever had been bothering me from Kedra's wedding, last week, had yet to go away.  I wouldn't marry Andar…though…I couldn't.  I don't know why the idea upsets me so much…but it does.  Andar will just have to learn that…he'll have to accept the fact that though I love him, I won't marry him…it's that simple.

So, it was about a week later…an entire week of being sick…every morning…and throwing up every time I got near any kind of food that has any kind of smell to it…before I realized that I wasn't really sick in the "cold" kind of way.  Now maybe I'm not the brightest person in the land, but I'm far from dumbest.  I get sick every morning…but by afternoon, I'm usually fine again…and, counting back the days, it had been almost two months since my last…time. Now, I've never been overly regular…but two months is a long time... even for me….so here it is:

  I'm almost positive that I'm pregnant.  

The worst thing is, that I can't ask anyone…like any of the clerics I know, for certain…since if I did, it would inevitably get out…and frankly, at this point, that's the last thing I need.  Andar doesn't need any more ammunition against me than he already has, for one thing…and I don't need people treating me like I'm a bloody invalid for another.  And I know that it's Andar's.  If I am pregnant…he's the only one I've slept with who wasn't taking cassil…and actually spilled his…uh…seed inside me.  I know that Dazelin and Inialos weren't lying, for the simple reason that I generally saw them take the cassil before we had sex.  Perfect…just bloody, fucking wonderful!  Now what the hells am I going to do? It's not like this is something I'll be able to hide indefinitely, even if I wanted to.  But frankly, the minute that Andar finds out about this, he's not going to take "no" for an answer…I just know it.  Damn it…this complicates everything!  I have no idea what I should do. I suppose for now, I'll have to just wait and I guess if another month passes…well…I'll just wait and see what happens for now.

      So, anyhow, my birthday finally came, and it least it gave me a bit of a distraction from the current…ah…situation.  Now, I haven't done anything for my birthday in years…well, unless you consider getting drunk, "something".  Even before Gull died, I pretty much forgot about celebrating it…surviving while on the streets seemed more important, anyhow…and after Gull died, bringing me my present…that mirror…well…I guess I was rather soured on the whole idea.  Still, Lady Emilia had always made it a point to do something… even if it was just a special treat, or my favorite meal for dinner…and before her, my parents had had birthday parties for Tristain and myself.  I guess that they thought it was important to do so, now that I was back.  And out of my love for them, I let them, even though I was no longer as excited by the idea as I had been when I six.  

      They had my cook bake a special cake…carrot cake, actually…apparently I liked it rather well when I was little…now, well…I liked the icing…and I think I would have liked the entire cake better, had it not been for my queasy stomach.  Still and all, I think I did a good job of hiding it.  Then came the presents, each wrapped in cloth with ribbons.  Presents for Tristain, and for me.  They bought me more new dresses and clothes, new scabbards for my swords, elaborately designed with intertwined dragons, and a beautiful locket with miniatures of each of them in it.  Beckett, of course gave me a lovely box, in which contained a handful of dirt, crawling with earthworms…much to his dismay, I did not shriek, but merely thanked him for giving me such excellent bait to go fishing with…although the moat monster did prefer little, half-elf boys.  

      After the party…which really just consisted of my family…not that I minded…Tristain took me over to his room, saying that he, too, had a present for me…but that he couldn't carry it around easily.  Curious, I followed him, and as soon as we got into his room, I saw a familiar object on the floor near his bed.  It was a wooden trunk…a little smaller that the ones I had in my room…more child-sized.  And I knew it, recognized it easily.  The trunk was older and a bit faded, but it was the same…painted white, and the lid carved with an elaborate scene of a maiden in a tower, guarded by a dragon….with a great warrior riding up on a horse, sword readied…it was my trunk…or had been a long time ago.  Tristain and I had both had one, each at the foot of our beds.  For a minute I stared at it, speechless.

      "Wow…you saved it?  All these years?"  I asked, kneeling to touch my fingertips to the painted surface.  He sat down beside me, his eyes faraway, remembering.

      "For the longest time after you were taken…I refused to touch anything in our room, except my bed.  I didn't want anything moved, so that when you came back, everything would be just as it was when you left.  But then, you never came back…and after a while, Mom and Dad began to take your things out of the room…they thought it was unhealthy that I kept dwelling about you …they worried.  They thought if I wasn't so constantly reminded of you… that maybe I would "get better"…" He laughed softly, for a moment.

      "After a while, there were only a few things left…things that I wouldn't let them give away, or get rid of…like your trunk."

      "I remember I used to keep toys in it…and one time…when we caught that green snake…we tried to keep it in there…but Mom found it…remember?"  I asked him.  He nodded, smiling.  And in that moment, I felt peaceful….and so relaxed, as though my troubles were far away.

      "Remember how we used to play at being the people on the box?" He asked, gesturing to the knight and the princess.  I thought for a moment, then laughed.

      "Yes!  You played the knight…but I hated playing the princess…so I played the dragon instead…and tried to foil your plans to save the princess so I could eat her!"  He nodded.

      "Well, I beat you a few times, didn't I?"  He replied, defensively.

      "Thank you Tristain…what a wonderful present," I grinned…and it was…a bit of my lost past…something perhaps…that I could give to my children someday…and I remembered for a moment my current …dilemma, and thought that perhaps that day would be sooner than I might've anticipated.

      "Open it," he urged.  "That's not all there is."  So I opened the lid…and stacked to the very top of the trunk were boxes and packages, all wrapped up.  Tristain reached in and took one of the packages out.

      "They're all for you, of course…I believe I bought this one when we were 14.  It was silly of me, I guess…but every year you were gone…I would get birthday presents…but I never knew if you got presents where you were.  So every year I would buy you something and put it away…that way, you could have all your presents when you came back.  And there are other things in here too…things of yours that I didn't want anyone to throw away…your favorite things.  I saved them for you…I always knew that one day you'd come back…that I would find you.  I used to go looking, even when I was younger…but Mom and Dad never let me go alone…and I stopped after a while…because I knew that it hurt them, my reminding them that they'd failed to find you.  But I did find you in the end, didn't I?"  I nodded, slowly, watching him.  I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten him…my best friend in the whole world…I can't believe that I've grow up without him…and I can't describe how happy I was in that moment, knowing that I had him back again.

      So we went through the trunk, opening boxes and packages, birthday presents that spanned my whole life.  There were toys, bought when Tristain was younger…things that I would've liked as a child…a glass doll that had my same hair and eyes…a carved wooden dragon…a blunt wooden sword…a child sized set of pipes.   There were bits of jewelry, a painting he'd made, books of music and stories…there was a brush and a silver mirror…just like the one Gull had gotten me, only this one had "Tressa Harpstar" engraved on it.  The most recent thing was a dagger…one of Kedra's make…a dragon claw dagger.  He laughed when I told him that…he said he'd bought it from a tinker, who'd apparently bought it from Kedra at the Greengrass festival.  He said he'd bought it because it was made from a dragon's claw…and that since I had so liked playing the dragon as a child, this way the game would be more realistic, the next time we played.

      There were things from my childhood in there as well…a favorite dress, worn from usage…the quilt from my bed…mother had sewn it with her own hands…a favorite bedtime story… Finally, at the very bottom, there were several sheaves of paper tied up in a ribbon.  I looked at them for a moment before realizing that they were sheets of music.  He smiled brightly when he saw them.

      "This is a song I wrote for you…one of my first, when I became a bard.  I played it once, just to make certain it sounded right…then I put it away, and I haven't played it since.  I swore that the next time I did, would be when you came back…it was a rather nice song, I thought."  I almost lost it at that…almost started to cry, but a faint noise from behind us stopped me.  We turned to see our parents standing in the open door to the room.  Mother was openly sniffling, and Father…well…lets just say that his eyes were a bit watery looking too.  They had their arms around each other, and were looking at Tristain and I with such love…and pride… I turned back to Tristain, gave him a sisterly kiss on the cheek, and then a hug so fierce it squeezed the breath from his lungs.  

      "It's a great present, Tristain…but I didn't get anything for you…I'm sorry."  And indeed…as awful as it seems, I hadn't gotten him anything… hadn't been used to getting people presents since Lady Emilia died.  He shrugged and shook his head.

      "Doesn't matter…I've got the one thing I've wanted for every birthday for the past 17 years…you're back."  

      Then my parents got really weepy, and huggy…and well, you can imagine how sappy things went from there.  Strange to say though, where such a seen might have made me uncomfortable even a few weeks ago…it no longer bothered me so much now…and I was glad to know that I am, once again, part of a family…and a bloody, good, one at that!   

Andar really is upsetting me…and the worst part is that I don't really know why.  I'm beginning to think that I deliberately make life difficult for myself.  I mean, why, for instance am I making myself so crazy over his proposal?  What's so wrong with him wanting to marry me, anyhow?  My first excuse would be the curse, but every person I know who I've told about the curse, has pretty much laughed at the idea, and told me I was being silly.  And, frankly, with so many priests telling me that there is no curse on me, it's rather unreasonable for me to keep insisting that there is.  So, I really can't use that as an excuse any more.  I could still say that I won't marry him, because it would be safer for him to stay away from me…after all, having caused so much "trouble" while adventuring has earned the others and myself more than a few nasty enemies…but then, that would be like saying that I don't think that Andar is capable of taking care of himself…and besides…if it hadn't been for me, the Cult probably never would've attacked the keep…they might very well have killed everyone here, instead of just holding them hostage.  Still, Kedra married Takklinn…even though the danger being married to her is probably as bad as it would be for any one married to me.  Although, with my parents being back in my life, they were now effectively in the same danger as Andar potentially would be…my enemies would gladly use the people I care about against me…the problem is, of course, that I care about far too many people for my own good.  I never should broken with my vow to keep everyone at a distance…now I had more people to worry about than ever before, and less chance to be able to protect all of them.  I guess maybe I'm taking too much responsibility onto myself, though…most of my friends and family aren't helpless…they can handle trouble just as well as I can…and I can't just stop loving them.  So, I guess, what's done is done…and if Andar and my parents and all my friends are willing to accept the danger that comes with knowing me, then it's their choice, right?   I don't really have the right to tell them what to do or think.  

Then there's my "I-don't-want-to-be-tied-to-one-man" excuse.  That particular one is growing flimsy, even to me.  Like I said…in the past weeks, I've noticed, more and more, that I'm really only interested in Andar…me!  The magpie for men…interested in one man, who isn't even the best looking, or best lover I've ever had!  I mean…he's not bad looking…I happen to like his appearance…especially his eyes…and he's not a bad lover…especially when it comes to…um…stamina.  He's not even unique in his interest in me…hells, I've had men claim to be love with me…had some of my lovers ask to marry me….but frankly, they were all really easy to scare off, and the very idea of being with them for any amount of time longer than it takes to have sex with any of them was a laughable idea for me…but not with Andar.  Andar refused to be scared off, not with curses, or danger, or words, or deeds, or even finding out that I had more lovers than just him. I feel comfortable around him…and I like being with him…talking with him…doing things with him that don't involve sex…and believe me, that's a first.  We have a lot of similar interests…especially when it comes to Chauntea/the Earthmother.  I think he really likes it when I work with him out in the fields…that I'm not squeamish helping him with hurt and sick people…and that I understand him so well, all of which comes from growing up in a church, I guess.  I think, maybe, that he might've come adventuring with us if I hadn't been so protective and refused to even invite him along.  He doesn't seem to disapprove of what I do…not even the thieving part, all though the latter might be because I haven't had much of a need to steal, now that I have a "legitimate" job. As far as I can tell, he accepts me for whom and what I am, and aside from the sleeping with other men thing, he hasn't tried to change me into something different.  And of course, in his defense, he's tried to keep to the standards I set for any man I would be willing to marry.  He never took cassil…all though, at this point, it might have been better if he had…and he tried to court me…and might've even done a better job if I'd let him.  

And last, there's my anger excuse…I admit, I'm damned angry at him for interfering in my life the way he did…he didn't even give me the chance to make my own decision about not sleeping with others.  I hate it when people take my control away…especially men.  I know I seem rather obsessive about it, but like I've said…my life has always been so chaotic, I cling to the little bit of control I can keep.  I think that, in some way, my wish to have power over men goes back to when I was raped.  I know I keep saying that it doesn't bother me much, but I think maybe that's why I find control so important.  I had no control that day…and the northmen had all the control.  I didn't matter to them whether I said yes or no...they made the choice for me and took what they wanted.  And then, with the whole tattoo thing…the same thing…I had no say in my own actions…  That's why I'm so upset about what Andar did…he took my choices away. I know he did it for love…I believe him in that…but…it wasn't right…and I hate that he did it.  What if I agree to marry him, and he starts taking more of my choices away?  I don't want to be controlled…not by anyone, never again.  But what if I refuse him?  I love him too…I can admit that now…and I think that we could be really good together…hells, I already know that we are.  I don't want to lose him…I really rather like having him in my life…knowing that when I come back from wherever I've gone, that he'll be there.  I'm afraid to give up what might be the best thing I'll ever have…but I'm also scared that if I do as he wants, that it'll start a trend that will eventually turned my love for him into hatred over his manipulations.  

And, of course, now I've got the baby to think of…and yes, it's been two weeks or so since I last wrote in my journal.  No bleeding, unfortunately…but at least the sickness has stopped, thank the gods.  I really am pregnant…and I know that Andar is the father.  If I marry him, then the baby will have a dad… but if I don't…I'll be keeping Andar from his child. Besides…there is no way that Andar won't hear that I'm pregnant…even if I made him leave the keep today.  There are too many people who know me and know him…and one trip into Ashabenford would be all that was needed for word to reach him.  And what if I did that, and he decided that he wanted the baby?  Would he try to take it away from me?  Do I really want to be so heartless and deprive Andar and my baby of each other?  I could always lie to him, and say that it's Inialos' or Dazelin's, but as soon as it was born, he'd probably know that I was lying… seeing as it would be immediately apparent in the baby's features and skin tone if either Daz or Inialos was the father…which they're not.  Even though I'm rather confused about all this…and even though it hardly seems real that I'm pregnant, I don't think I would let anyone take my baby away from me.  I'd like to think I'll be a better mother than that.    

So what am I to do?

I can't go on like this.  I hate it.  I hate sleeping alone.  I'm making myself miserable with my own stubbornness. I love Andar…I…I think I'll tell him yes.  After all…he's already won…I can't seem to concentrate on anything while things are like this…and people at the keep are starting to notice.  I can't help it that I keep snapping at people…I'm being awfully bad-tempered.  After all, today is Midsummer's and while everyone else is all excited about the festivities tonight, and getting ready, here I am, hiding in my tower, making myself unhappy.  All I have to do is swallow my pride…tell him that he's won…that'll I'll marry him.  It can't be that hard…besides…if I don't like the way things work out…if he changes, tries to completely control me…I'll leave him.  I can always go back to the Moonshaes…all though, if the truth be told, I don't want to leave the dalelands and my family and friends.  I can take the risk…hells, it's now worse that the risks I've taken before…still…I think that this time…this time it'll hurt a lot more if I make the wrong choice.

So I left the tower, a while later…and went to find him.  It wasn't hard, seeing as it was the middle of the afternoon when I was finished weighing all my choices.  Nearly everyone who wasn't currently on duty was in the great hall for lunch, or getting ready for Midsummer's eve.  No one had bothered to come get me, since I'd informed them that I was taking a nap, and wanted to be left alone.  I walked into the great hall, and marveled for a moment at the sight I saw.  

It was a warm, perfectly clear summer day…and the double doors were wide open to let the sun and the air into the hall.  There were people seated all around the tables…the men who worked for me…people from all over the dalelands were eating, and talking with easy camaraderie. At one end of the table, were my family and my friends…Gull, my parents, all my siblings…Guar and Violet, Kedra and Captain Takklinn…and, of course, Andar.  They were all laughing at something Andar had said, but I was too far away to hear it.  They all seemed so happy…so bright and real…like nothing I could've imagined. I felt an almost physical pain in my chest at the sight.  I wanted to go join them…but I didn't want to interrupt…didn't want them to stop because I was there.  It seemed so perfect…like what I'd always wanted, but was never willing to admit it.  I had a family…and a home…and friends…really good friends.  I don't know why I felt so compelled to make myself miserable by trying for so long to avoid all of those things…by trying to hide in my loneliness for so long.  I guess I just couldn't bear to lose anymore…and if I had nothing left, then there was nothing _to_ lose…but now…it was too late…losing this would kill me...for good this time.  Oh, I might still breath and walk about, but my heart would die…and I'm afraid of that kind of death.  I watched them from the doorway… every second meaning to go forward…but I couldn't move…I felt the tears begin to gather…unsure of why I felt like crying now…when I was so close to being dangerously happy.   I turned to run back out, not wanting anyone to see me crying…see me upset…I hate that.  I hate letting people see me so weak…and I didn't want to make them unhappy.  But as I turned to run out, he looked up and caught my eyes…just a moment, before I broke and ran.  I heard him call my name…Raine…Tressa… what did it matter, I answered to both…even though I was now some sort of combination of the two people.  I heard him come after me, the sound of his booted feet chasing me across the stone of the keep's yards.  I left the keep, running out over the drawbridge, and towards the woods.  There was nowhere in the keep I could hide, anyhow…for there was no place that was truly secret there.  

Now, I'm very fast, and I made the tree line quickly enough…but Andar is not slow.  He caught up to me, when I stumbled over a stone that had been hidden beneath the leaves…he caught me in his arms, and held me tight, and even though I could've easily broken away from him…I didn't.  After I moment, I let myself slouch in his arms…let him hold me up.

      "Raine…what's wrong?"  He whispered…I could hear the concern in his deep, voice.

      "You win…" I sobbed.  "You win…" I couldn't see his face, but I know that he had a confused expression on it.

      "What do I win?"

      "Me…I give up…you…h-have…all the…c-control.  I…d-don't care…" I was trying to calm myself down, but it wasn't really working. I was ruining it…I'd had a whole nice, neat speech I'd meant to say…but at the moment, the entire thing was forgotten.  He turned me around, so I was facing him…he looked rather blurry through my teary eyes.

      "Raine…I don't want to control you…I never meant it that way…"

      "I love you...all right?  You win…I…I'll marry you…j-just d-don't keep…doing this…to…me.  I hate…b-being…a…alone…" A fresh wave of tears burst forth, and I lowered my head to his shoulder, tired of trying to explain things to him while being so upset…and for no good reason.  He wrapped his arms tightly around me, and sat down, drawing me onto his lap.  

      "Shh…it's all right, love.  I'm sorry I upset you. You're not alone…" he murmured.  I couldn't manage the energy to answer him.  So I let him hold me, and comfort me…and I have to say that it was a rather nice thing.

      It was a while before I felt calm again…calm, and rather drained…but then, I have been sleeping a whole lot more than usual, as of late, anyhow.  When he realized that my crying had ceased, he gently wiped away all the wetness from my face with the corner of his shirtsleeve.  

      "You feeling better, now?" he asked.  I nodded, but made no move to leave his arms…especially after having been bereft of his touch for so many weeks now. 

      "Raine…did you mean what you said?"

      "Which part?"  I whispered.

      "The part where you said that you loved me."  I nodded.

      "I love you, Andar…I just…I love you…ok?"  I forced myself not to say anymore than that…anything that might temper what I meant.

      "And the other part?" He continued.

      "Which part?"

      "Will you marry me?"  I didn't know if he was asking in reference to what I had said, or if he was proposing again, but my answer was the same either way.

      "Yes."  I felt him draw in a deep, startled, breath...his arms tightened a bit more.  Kind of odd, really…I had agreed to marry Andar, exactly one year after the day I'd met him…  

      "Raine…you can't know…by Chauntea… I love you so much…I'm sorry that I hurt you.  I don't want to control you…and I don't want to "win"…I just want you." 

      "Mmm-hmm," I murmured sleepily.  The sun was warm, and Andar was comfortable…and I hadn't gotten much sleep last night…so I wasn't really surprised to find that I was falling asleep.

      "You'll really marry me?"  I heard him ask.

      "Mmm-hmm…'st don't change…" I yawned, and closed my eyes.  I felt his lips place a kiss on the top of my head...which was about all he could reach, seeing as I was curled up against him.

      "I promise I'll make you happy," he declared.

      "Mmm-hmm…" Then I heard him chuckle, and mumble something about talking later…and I fell asleep, safe in my love's arms.

      That man…that miserable, bloody, irritating…man!  Gods…he making me crazy!  I can't believe him!  I can't bloody believe it!  I gave in…I gave him everything he wanted…I told him I loved him…and I agreed to marry him…. you'd think he'd have the decency to give me something I want…mainly what he's been denying me for exactly 2 months, 2 weeks and 6 days…but oh no!  "We can't make love again until after the wedding, Raine."  Gods!  I'd kill him if I didn't love him! This is the longest time I've gone without sex since I was sixteen years old! He wants everything to be perfect…but still…why the hells is he making me suffer more?!  It's not like we haven't been sleeping together for over a year now.  Gods, I want to scream!  I can't stand him sometimes.  So, I've decided…and yes, I know this is incredibly petty…that I'm not telling him about the baby until he takes my clothing off and sees for himself.  I just have to make certain that the wedding happens before I start to show my…condition.  Petty, yes...but…damn it…he doesn't have to know everything…and besides…I deserve a bit of revenge after all the things he's done.

      So…anyhow, that aside…I guess I should explain what's going on.  It's been two days since I agreed to marry him, and we told everyone in the keep a couple of hours ago, at dinner.  Needless to say, my parents were very happy…my mother cried. Gull grinned as proudly as my father…and I thought how lucky I was to have both of them.  Thera seemed disgusted by the idea of marriage, and went back to eating, but Joslyn though it was "simply wonderful," and demanded that she get to have a new dress for the occasion.  Beckett was…no doubt…thinking of all the ways he could wreak havoc at the wedding party, I'm sure.  Guar and Kedra both hugged and congratulated me…and Takklinn made some remark to Andar about joining the ranks of the chained…although his eyes were sparkling, and he gave Kedra a wide grin, when she made a noise of outrage. Actually no one seemed disappointed or unhappy about the news… there was actually a loud cheer from all my soldiers when I made the announcement…well...almost all of them, except for the ones who'd lost the betting pool that had apparently been going on in the barracks, that is.

So, it took a few days, but the plans for the wedding are now underway.  I wouldn't have minded having just a small ceremony with just a few people…and actually Andar and I have decided that we will have a private ceremony…but that'll be between just the two of us, before the main wedding.  The wedding itself…well…let's just say with so many people wanting to attend, there was no way I was going to be able to get away with small.

Since I refuse to wait longer than I have to, we agreed on two weeks.  I meant to be married, and have Andar back in my bed, where he belongs, in two weeks…no compromises.  Needless to say, there's a great deal to be done. Miri is already planning the food for the wedding, which she claims will be her greatest meal yet.  Mother, who apparently is an excellent seamstress, as well as a priestess, has taken control over my wedding dress.  It sounds pretty, the way she's described it…a high-waisted, sapphire blue over-dress, with a gold silk under-dress, embroidered with the same Moonshaen designs that I have tattooed on my body.  While mother was measuring me for the dress…she said something like,

"…yes…we'll make it high-waisted…like this…that way, no one will notice…"

"Notice what?"  I asked her suspiciously.  She smiled brightly, and laughed.

"Why, that you're with child, sweetie."  I know my mouth dropped wide open, and I must've had a rather stupid look of shock on my face.  I was so certain that I'd managed to keep the baby a secret.

"But…how…?"  I sputtered.

"Tressa, dear, after five children…Well…let's just say that I only have to look to see the truth.  Now…tell me something…do you love him?"

"Of course I do!"  She sighed, happily.

"That's good…I hoped that you did, and that it wasn't just because of the child."

"He doesn't even know yet," I confessed.  

"Whyever not?"  I shrugged.

"I'll tell him when I'm good and ready."  My mother laughed again, shaking her head.

"Well, I'll keep the information to myself, then.  But, Tressa, you do realize that you're going to begin showing…very soon, right?"  

"I figured as much…but…well…" I sighed, explosively.

"You don't know how glad I am that you know, actually. The thing is, I sort of know a bit…but, really, I have no idea what to expect.  After all, I've never been…uh…pregnant before…and Lady Emilia died before she could tell me anything about it…and Gull…well…"

"Gull is a man," mother finished for me, with a knowing smile.  I nodded.

"Don't worry…I won't let you go through this alone," and for a moment, she seemed sad.  I think it was because she had been alone…her parents had never accepted her union with a human, and would have nothing to do with her or the rest of my family, because of it.  All she had had was my father…who, while a good, and loving man, probably knew even less about babies, at the time, than she did, seeing as he was an only child.  Then she smiled again.

"I didn't have a clue as to what I was doing at first, when I had you and Tristain…but some things you just know…and some things, you learn…and for the rest…well, I'll help you however I can, sweetie."  So, while she worked, she told me about her own pregnancies…with Tristain and I…and with all the others.  Apparently, it's different with each baby.  For instance, she wasn't sick at all with Thera, but she was sick for months with Beckett.  She told me that, being a half-elf, pregnant with a human's child, I would probably give birth within nine months…she had been pregnant with each of us for two years…gods…two years!  That meant that the baby could start moving anytime now.  

It felt odd talking to my mother about such things, but I was glad that I did…at least this way, I had some idea of what was to come…so I wouldn't be so shocked when it finally did happen…although I have to say, I wasn't too keen on the actual birth.  Mother told me straight, that it was very difficult and very painful…and that it could last for days.  That had me shuddering.  I'd heard stories of the horror of giving birth…even knew a few girls on the streets Caer Callidyr who had died in the attempt.  Mother assured me that I would be fine, however, seeing as I would have at least two clerics in attendance…although, she confided, that she wasn't too certain as to how much help Andar would be.  Men, after all, might be necessary for the creation, but they became positively useless, except as something to yell at, during the birth…at least that's what my mother said.

We decided to have the ceremony here, at the keep…that way there would be plenty of room, and the people who worked for me…who all wanted to attend, would be able to and not leave the keep defenseless.  So, invitations were sent out to most of the people I know, work with, or am acquainted with…including Inialos and his cousins, Dove, Lord Ilmeth and Lord Haresk, Wolcott, the dwarves of Glen, the Riders of Mistledale, people from the various temples, all Andar's friends from The Abbey of the Golden Sheaf, and of course, Dazelin… now the minute Dazelin got the invitation, he must've headed straight up for the keep.  He was, apparently, back from his little jaunt to wherever he'd gone.  The miserable dark elf laughed at me…gloating over how easily I'd fallen…and really, there was nothing I could say to disagree…for it was rather true.  Strangely enough, though, when I retorted that I would wait, and laugh when he inevitably fell stupidly in love, and made a fool of himself, I noticed an odd look in his eyes…one that I couldn't quite place…but it was gone again before I could ponder further on it.  Still, once he was done acting smug and superior, he honestly congratulated me, and hoped that I would be happy…a rare unbastradly moment for Dazelin.  He informed me that he would most certainly be attending the wedding, and then informed me that I was to give him Banshee's Wail and Winter's Eye, complaining that I hadn't given him much time to prepare a wedding present for me.  Now, naturally I balked at giving up not one, but both of the weapons most familiar to me…but since it was Dazelin…and seeing as I had an entire weapons room full of spare weapons I could use for a few weeks, should the need arise, I gave them up with only a mild bit of complaining.

So the two weeks went by quickly, during which time my morning sickness, thank the gods, subsided completely.  Extra tables and food and such was ordered, and the dwarves of Glen agreed to put up any guests that decided to stay, whom we did not have room at the keep for.  Most of the invitations that were sent out were returned with positive confirmations…and I was beginning to get nervous about all the people that were coming…I really had wanted a smaller wedding…this was beginning to remind me of something a noble might do…shudder…and I'd go back to being a poor, street-rat rather than begin acting like a noble.

Now there was one problem with the guests…specifically Andar's family.  Now, I don't know if I mentioned much about Andar's past before, but I'll say it again, if I have.  Andar grew up on a farm just outside of Ashabenford.  His mother was a half-elf…moon, like me…and his father's a human farmer.  He has four other siblings…all older, two brothers and two sisters.  Now, when Andar was ten, his mother died protecting him, during a battle, when some jerk from Scardale decided to try to cause trouble throughout the dalelands.  For some reason, Andar claims that his family blamed him for her death…I personally thought that was ridiculous…after all, how could it be his fault, when he was just a little boy…hells, he probably wasn't even big enough to lift the weapon that killed her.  Anyhow, he was twelve when the panther attacked him, the reason for the scars on his face, and body,… which incidentally, are highly ticklish,…and his father, Dorne, took him to the Abbey of the Golden Sheaf to be healed.  That was when Andar took up the calling of Chauntea to become a priest…apparently, he never went home.  

Now, coming to my point, Andar did not even want me to send an invitation to his family.  I personally thought that to be silly…after all…so he hadn't seen them since he was little…I hadn't seen my family in an even longer time, and I couldn't imagine being happier, now that I had them back in my life.  So maybe his family had been upset when his mother had died…all this time, they had to have realized that they were wrong in blaming Andar… and besides…he's a priest…of a very popular religion in the Dalelands, I might add…how could they not be proud of him?  Hells, my parents thought he was wonderful…especially my father…all though, with my father, it could also be because Andar's hair was shoulder length…not ankle length, like Tristain's and mine…on a side note…I've finally gotten to see an argument between father and my brother over the length of Tris's hair.  You see, father's hair is short, and he thinks that all men should keep their hair short…Tristain, in part because of me, has refused his entire life to have his hair cut…and quote him "…Is not about to change now."  It drives father crazy, and he pointed out to Tristain that having hair so long is more trouble than it's worth and used Andar's shorter locks as an example.  Tristain wouldn't have any of it…and to make matters worse, Beckett wants to grow his hair out too, and joined it the argument, but Father refused to let Beckett do so,…so Beckett threw a fit when Father declared that my little brother's hair needed a trim before the wedding… all in all, it was rather amusing for me to watch.

Getting back to my story, though, I told Andar that he was being ridiculous, and that I meant to invite his family…my parents rather wanted to meet them, and so did I.  So I sent the invitations…but, when three days from the wedding I hadn't had any answer, I figured that the letters had somehow gotten lost, or misplaced or something.  That in mind, I told Andar that I was going to go down to his family's farm near Ashabenford, and deliver the messages personally.  When I told Andar about my plan, he immediately stated that he was coming with me…no ifs, ands, or buts about it.  The whole ride down there, he was tense and rather grim.  I kept trying to tease him, asking how bad could it possibly be…they were, after all, his family, right?

I should know better by now than to ask such questions, even to myself.  We got to the farm around noon…there was no one in the fields, or anything, so I assumed that the Hawklights were all in the house for lunch.  I was right about that, anyhow.  We rode up and dismounted, and while Andar tied Apple up to a post, I went up to the door and knocked.  A few moments later, an older man who looked a great deal like Andar…same brown hair and eyes, sun-browned skin, same face… only he had a mustache, and was about seven or eight years older than Andar, answered.  

"Hello," I greeted brightly.  Andar's brother…at least that's who I assumed him to be, looked confused.

"Can I help you, miss?"  he asked.

"Yes, actually, I'm here to deliver an invitation to the Hawklight family.  I held out the letter.  He took the letter, looked at it for a half a second, than crumpled it up and put it in his pocket.  He began to turn away, when I grabbed his arm.

"Hold on…aren't you even going to look at it?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"  He shrugged.

"I already know what's in it," he finally replied.  "Not that it's any of your business…miss."  Of course, the tone of voice he used set my temper up a notch.

"Oh, I rather think it is my business…Mr…?"  He did not answer, merely staring at me as though I were some sort of strange creature he'd suddenly found on his door.

"Dorne," I heard Andar say, coming up from behind me.  "Raine, love, meet my oldest brother, Dorne Hawklight, junior."  I saw surprise in the man's eyes as he caught sight of Andar, who quickly came up beside me, and put his arm around my waist.

"Dorne, this is Raine Harpstar…my wife to be."  Dorne just stood there another moment or two, looking dumbfounded.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?"  Andar asked, in a voice more tense than I'd ever heard him use before…even when he was angry with me. Dorne hesitated only a moment before replying,

"Of course, please, come in."  The house he led us into was on the large size, made of wood, and fairly clean, if somewhat sparsely furnished.  It might've been fairly bright, due to an abundance of windows, but most of them were covered over by heavy curtains, making the house seem dark.  Dorne led us towards the back of the house, to a kitchen, where there were three other people seated around a square table, finishing up lunch.  I knew immediately that these were Andar's other three siblings, for they all looked alike, in one way or another.  Both his sisters had brown hair, although, they had pale blue eyes instead of brown, and Andar's other brother had black hair and brown eyes, but the same facial features.  A second later, another woman walked in from a side door, wiping her hands on an apron.  She had thin, pale, blond hair and hazel eyes…rather on the small side, and a bit plump.  They all looked over to us when we entered, and I registered looks of surprise on the faces of Andar's siblings, confusion on the face of the other woman. There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence.  I was the first one to break it, being that I am a bit of a loud mouth.

'Well, then, you'll be Andar's family.  I'm rather glad to meet you.  I'm  Raine Harpstar…Andar's intended," I added, quickly.  There was another moment of silence.

"Raine, let me introduce you to my family," Andar said quietly.  "My oldest brother Dorne, or course.  My sisters, Gina and Nicole…and my brother Ryder…I'm afraid I can't tell you who that is."  He gestured to wards the one woman who did not look anything like the rest of them.

"Oh, I'm Laura…Dorne's wife," the woman stated in a tone that sounded vaguely breathless…and wholly blonde. She shook my hand, and reluctantly, each of Andar's siblings rose and did the same.

The visit proved to be a disaster.  His family proved to be polite, but so cold to Andar and myself, that I felt like it was winter, and not the middle of the summer.  It was obvious that his family was still holding the grudge that Andar claimed they had towards him.  They made it quite clear that none of them had had any intentions of going to the wedding, although they tried to cover it up with excuses so flimsy that they were laughable.  They were very good, I quickly realized , at hurting Andar…though they managed to make it seem as though they were being polite.  I'm not oblivious, and I immediately realized what they were doing…could feel Andar tense a little more with each verbal wound they dealt him. They made it clear that they had not forgiven him for being alive, while their mother was dead…that they did not care what he was doing, that he was a well-respected priest, or that he was getting married.  They let him know that they did not want him there, and that it wouldn't have mattered if I were the Queen of the Moonshaes…that I would never be welcomed or accepted either.  Oh, Dorne's wife wasn't so bad, but I doubt she had a brain In her head to realize what was being said anyhow…although she was rather good at making certain our cups were never empty.  Andar's father wasn't home, apparently, gone down to run an errand in Ashabenford.  I was rather glad of that, for I don't think I could've dealt with yet another person whose distain for Andar was barely hidden.  After about an hour of this, I decided I'd had enough.  I stood up far too quickly for politeness.  I guess Andar knows me better than I thought, for he stood up, almost as quickly, and grabbed my arm before I could raise it and deal a bit of "hurting" to his miserable-tempered siblings.

"Well, It's been….nice to see you all again…I'm sorry you can't come to the wedding, and if we've bothered you.  Raine, just wanted to meet my family.  Tell father I'm sorry we missed him,"  Andar stated swiftly, and dragged me towards the door.

"Please just let me hit them," I whispered to him.

"No, Raine."

"They deserve it…how dare they treat you like that?!"  I answered, outraged, and at the edge of my frayed temper. 

"It's just the way they are…let it be, Raine."

"Fine…for now," I threatened, as we got outside.  Andar turned to face me, taking my arms in his hands.

"No, Raine…just leave them be.  It doesn't bother me, anymore."

"Liar."  He sighed.

"Just leave them alone Raine…promise me you won't hurt them…or come back later."  I had to think about that for a minute, but since he looked so miserable, I agreed.

"All right…I won't physically hurt them…that's all I can promise."  Needless to say, I had an idea…it was mean…but, well, so were Andar's family.  I couldn't believe how they'd treated him.

So when we got home, I left Apple to Nym's care and went off to find my father.  It wasn't hard…he and Gull were talking in quiet tones out near the garden…but they straightened up, and hushed up as soon as I approached. Normally, I might have tried to get it out of them what they'd been talking about, but I was still far too irritated over Andar's family.  

      Now, over the past weeks, I've learned a great deal about my dad…one that he loves me a great deal…and two, that he's an excellent bard….well more than that actually, but those are the two relevant points here.  Now, I've spent many nights listening to my father play and sing…he's really good…and he loves to hear the songs I knew how to play from the Moonshaes…the silly "wind" and "sea" songs I'd made up as a child…and I knew that people in the area knew of him…that his songs were well-known.  I'd figured that out when we'd gone into Ashabenford one night…and the people there knew who he was, asked him and Tristain to play.  So I knew that if I could "inspire" him, that my father would make my revenge on Andar's family much worse than a mere thrashing.

      So, I told him what had occurred, painting the Hawklights in the worse possible hues.  I used my best "Daddy-isn't-it-awful-and-I'm-so-upset-about-it" voice… not something I'm used to, mind you…but I accounted myself well, I thought.  It worked just as I had hoped…for one thing, dad likes Andar…and for another, he would do almost anything to make me happy.  

      "Don't worry about it, baby," my father said, giving me a hug…my family is a rather huggy group I've noticed.

      He headed off, whistling an unfamiliar tune.  

      As of last night, when my father went into Ashabenford, there is a new, catchy song making the rounds around the city…a song about a brave young priest, and the cruel family that rejected him…or something to that effect.  Father didn't use any names, but then, he didn't have to, considering that everyone in Ashabenford knew everyone else. Oh, how I wish I could see the faces of Andar's siblings when they hear that song…and realize just who the rotten family in the tale was…ah…sometimes revenge can be sweet, don't you think?

      So the day finally came…a perfect summer day, I might add.  The sky was a bright blue, dotted with a few of those nearly edible-looking, fluffy, white clouds.  Everything had been set up just so…and people began arriving, some the evening before, and some earlier in the morning.  I was pretty much confined to my tower, assured by my mother that everything was in hand, and that I should not be out wandering around.  Needless to say, I was antsy, being confined…and nervous as all hells.  I could hardly believe that I was actually going to go through with this.  What if I was making a big mistake?  Part of me wanted to scream…but fortunately, I'm the calm type…all right, stop that bloody laughing, you!  Like I said, I'm the calm type…and…oh, hells…I wasn't anything resembling calm.  I was positive something was going to go wrong…I don't know what…but something.  Maybe the Cult would attack…or the Zhents…actually, I think I would've rather fancied a battle over all this awful "hurry up and wait" nonsense.  Unfortunately, Dazelin still had my swords, and I'd been forbidden to wear any weapons with my dress.  I can tell you how naked I felt…even considering that my wedding dress was rather more conservative than my usual outfits.

      Mother had done a magnificent job on my wedding dress, by the way.  She, and Kedra, and Violet, and my sisters helped me to get ready for the ceremony.  I did my own hair, as usual, which came out rather nice looking, if I do say so.  I've always been good at braiding rope…and really my hair is just like crimson colored rope.  When I finally saw the finished product in the mirror, I was shocked.  My hair was pinned up in a braided coronet around my head, with my white bangs carefully placed to frame my face.  The dress was perfect…the underdress was this shimmery gold silk that fell off my shoulders.  The sapphire overdress was plain in design, slashed up the sides to see the gold of the underdress, and sleeveless…but it was the designs, embroidered in gold and silver thread that made it magnificent.  Along the hem was a complex Moonshae knot work design, like on my arm…and the chest part of it had been embroidered with tiny stars and moons.  The dress was high-waisted, as mother had said, with a matching gold sash tied just under my breasts…and a good thing too, for as mother had predicted, my normally flat belly had grown… hardly enough to notice…but…well…_I_ noticed, and I didn't want anyone else to.  For footwear, I had a pair of soft leather sandals that had been dyed blue to match the overdress.  My mother had given me a beautiful necklace made of sapphires and moonstones to wear, as well…a wedding gift.  The overall effect was…well…I certainly didn't look like me, that's for certain.  

      I had no idea what Andar was wearing, seeing as Mom had not allowed me to see his outfit, only assured me that it was neither brown, nor priest's robes… actually, they wouldn't even allow me to see Andar, claiming that it would be bad luck.  I didn't argue too much…after all, there was no sense tempting Beshaba, right?

      Finally, the time came…just before noon.  Everything was ready out in the yard.  When I emerged from my tower with all the women…all of whom were wearing nice clothing…even Kedra…I saw that nearly everyone I'd sent invitations to had come…oh, not the Lords Ilmeth and Haresk…but then I hadn't expected them to…far too busy and all that.  But all the people who actually know me…the dwarves of Glen were all seated in the front rows, to see better, I guess.  Many of them already looked tipsy…and I was glad that we'd made certain that there would be plenty of ale and other drink for them.  Dazelin was there, looking rather nice in a set of light blue robes…and at his side…strangely enough, was a drow woman that I did not recognize.  He did not seem unhappy to be around her though, so I instantly wondered what that was all about.  Inialos and his cousins, Simimar and Lathai, were there, all cleaned up…and he 'd even done a passable braid in his black hair.  I did not see Dove, but I did see Lady Storm, her sister…which made me a bit more nervous than before.  Guar was all dressed up in his best, as were all the people who worked at the keep.  All my men were wearing their armor, polished and clean, standing to one side, at attention.  Tristain was sitting up front with Beckett, and my mother and sisters quickly went to join them.  The priest, one of Andar's superiors, was waiting beneath the only tree in the yard, in the plain brown robes that all of the followers of Chauntea and the Earthmother seemed to favor.  And waiting next to him was Andar.  I drew in a breath when I saw him, for I hardly think I'd ever seen him look so fine.  

      His brown hair was brushed and pulled back in a tie at the base of his neck.  True to Mother's words, he was not wearing robes, but a tunic of fine linen dyed a rich, dark green, with blue trim that matched my dress.  His breeches were brown and tight against his muscular legs, and the outfit was finished by a set of black boots, and his holy symbol, of course.  I curled my hand tightly around the object I was holding, and before I could take a step towards the gathering, my arms were taken up, on either side.  To my right was my father, Kendal, grinning brightly.  And to my left was…Gull…only like myself, this was a Gull I was not familiar with.  He, too, was completely cleaned up…dark hair slicked back, wearing nice clothing, shaved of any stubble…and looking…well…down right, upper class, and not a bit like the rogue I was used to.  There was pride in his eyes and his wry, half-smile…the same pride that I saw in my father's eyes.  They each took an arm.  Father leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  I must've seemed surprised, as he answered the question I'd been thinking.

      "Gull…uh…Alaric and I thought it would be best if we both escorted you…after all…in a way he is as much your father as I am."  I wondered how much it cost my father to say that…but if doing so had hurt him, I saw no sign of it.  I turned to Gull, who smiled again.

      "Like I said that day…you're the girl I never had and 'm proud to be here with you today." And for Gull, that was saying a great deal…seeing as he was never one on openly showing emotions…dangerous, that.

      So they walked with me up to the priests, and released me to Andar.  He took my hand in his, and we turned to face the priest together.  

      The ceremony seemed to go by very quickly…I hardly heard the words, but repeated them the same.  Then we were at the end, and I took Andar for my husband…and took the object from my hand…the ring I'd gotten him…gold with an emerald stone, and put it on his finger…and he took my hand and slipped a ring onto my finger as well…I looked down at it…it, too, was gold, and engraved with a design of vines that curled around a single, star sapphire.  It must have required far more work that the plain band I'd given him had…far more than two or three weeks.  I gave him a questioning look, to which he smiled, and whispered,

      "I had it made up months ago, love."  And I knew that I loved him…that I had not made a mistake.  Too late anyhow, for we were wed…Andar was my husband, and I was his wife.  The priest said a blessing, and gave us a pouch… which I knew contained a single acorn…later that night, when we said our own private vows together, we would plant that acorn, and hope that it would grow into a tree, a symbol of our union.  It was some sentimental local Chauntean custom…but at the moment, it sounded incredibly romantic…not that I'm a romantic mind you…I just…well…I just love my husband, so I was willing to go along with whatever silliness he liked.

      With the wedding over, the party began…and I imagine that's what a good many of the people had come for.  There was plenty of food, and even more drink.  Everyone came around to give congratulations, and small gifts.  The dwarves all complimented me on the drink selection…but then, seeing as we'd had Kedra and Takklinn make the decisions on that, I knew that the dwarves would be happy.  

      Lady Storm came up to me after a bit, and told me that Dove had been called away to other business, and had been, regrettably, unable to attend.  She, however, had come in her sister's stead.  She never did introduce her companion, a rather venerable looking, graybeard, who had a sharp, intelligent gaze…it didn't matter though, I told him them to have fun.  There was only one mention of the long-ago potion that I'd stolen from Storm.  She had, jestingly, inquired whether it had been helpful, and I replied, quite easily, that it had saved my life.  She grinned, and said that she was glad the potion had gone to good use.

      My father seemed rather a bit in awe of Lady Storm…especially when she wondered if the bards there, herself included, might play some music.  So father, and Tristain, and Lady Storm began to play.  After a while, my father coaxed my mother into singing as well.  Everyone was very impressed by her, seeing as her voice is beautiful…and of course they were all amazed when she hit a note that caused all the glasses to shake…but, fortunately, not break.  After that particular performance, I heard a lot of people…mainly keep people… saying that they now knew where I'd gotten my voice.

      Dazelin eventually came up, and gave me his present, my swords back, and muttered something about new enchantments on them.  His "friend" was with him, and being me, I naturally demanded an introduction.

      Her name was Calilliandra Zsarina, a priestess of Elistraee, Dazelin's goddess, whom I understand is a drow goddess of swords and dancing and good drow, or something like that.  Anyhow, "Cally," as she told us to call her, was a perfectly nice person, who congratulated me on my marriage, and apologized that Dazelin had not said he was going to bring her.  I rather liked her on sight…but Dazelin's reaction to her…now that was telling…he kept watching her...sneaking glances.  Now, he's never been overly complimentary towards his fellow drow…especially the women…but if I had my guesses right, he was rather enamored of this "Cally."  I wonder…   

      Overall the wedding itself, and the party afterwards were nearly perfect.  Even Beckett's prank, involving a dish of food that looked like some kind of pudding…until people realized that it was really mud…and full of earthworms…didn't really dampen the spirit.  The only mar on the whole day was when I met Andar's father.

      I hadn't noticed the man earlier, and fortunately, he waited until Andar and I were a little ways away from the other guests before coming up to us.  He, too, looked a great deal like a much older, graying version of Andar…except that where Andar will have lines on his face from smiles when he gets older…Dorne Hawklight's face had frown wrinkles etched into his browned skin.  He was tall, like Andar, and he looked me up and down, with a frown on his face.

      "You never should have married a wench with red hair…and looking like a skunk, no less.  Red–haired women'll give you naught but trouble.  But I suppose you couldn't've managed better, Andar."  He said to his son.  Beside me, I felt Andar stiffen suddenly.

      "I'll thank you to watch your words about my wife, father,"  Andar stated.

      "Don't you take that tone with me," his father snapped.  "I'm still your father, like it or nay.  So you're married," he turned to me, then.

      "And you girl…you'll be sorry for choosing this one…and he for choosing you...just wait.  It won't be so much fun when you've got a passel of brats clinging to your skirts…but maybe that's why he married you…" he looked at my waistline speculatively, and I probably would have been outraged, if I hadn't know what I do.  

      "Tried to shame me here with that song…aye, I've heard it!  Well, I meant to come anyhow…almost didn't after I heard that song down the tavern, though.  Got all of Ashabenford looking down their noses at the Hawklight family.  And for what?  I was never cruel to you, Andar.  Never hit you.  Took you down to the temple and paid the price to get you healed proper…you were the one who took it to your head to be a priest…never said you couldn't come home," Dorne stated in a defensive sneer. 

      "No father, you only made me feel unwelcome to do so," Andar replied with quiet resignation.  I was not so quiet.

      "How dare you blame your son for his mother's death?!  He was a little boy…and that's what mothers do…they love their children enough to die for them!" I hissed at him…a little louder than I meant, but not shouting… I didn't want everyone to hear what was going on.

      "I never said…"

      "But you do!" I interrupted his feeble protestations.

      "I loved my Amra!" Dorne exclaimed, bitterly.

      "Loved her, and she died…and for what?"

      "She died for her son!"  Dorne shrugged.

      "All right…calm yourself, woman.  Told you…red hair and all," he looked back to Andar.

      "Well I came to wish you luck…and I see you'll need it."

      "If you are sincere, then I thank you, father."  Andar stated stiffly.  Dorne merely shrugged, and walked off.  I saw , out of the corner of my eye that my father was standing nearby…had probably heard the entire exchange.  He looked angry…and after a moment, he stalked after Dorne Hawklight.

      "I'm sorry about that Raine," Andar apologized, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it.

      "No, I'm sorry…I'm the one who invited that…miserable…sour…bitter, old man…I should've believed you."  

      "Don't worry about it…I doubt we'll see him again anytime soon.  Now, then, shall we get back to our guests?"

      "I suppose…but only until night falls," I shrugged.

      "And why until then?" Andar asked, with a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes.

      "Well, don't we have to…consummate the marriage?" I asked, innocently.  He managed to contain his grin, as we walked back to the party.

      A short while later, my father returned, massaging one of his hands, and looking satisfied.  I had a feeling that he'd had more than just a word or two with Dorne Hawklight. 

      Eventually night fell, as it always does.  Some of the guests had already left, and some had gone to their rooms for the night…accommodations were rather tight, but oh well.  The dwarves, however, were well entrenched and happily drinking away, when we left. 

      Andar and I left the keep before the portcullis went down and the gate went up for the night, carrying a few blankets, and some food and drink, and the pouch that the priest had given us.  We went out to one of the keep's smaller fields…, which had been freshly tilled the day before.  We would finish our wedding there, as per Chauntean custom.  

      By the moonlight, we repeated the vows we'd said earlier…and I was not as surprised as I might've been to find that I meant them.  I loved Andar, and I wanted to be with him.  

      "My wife," Andar said quietly, as he held my hand in his.

      "My husband," I answered…the word feeling strange, but…right.  Together, we planted the acorn, on the edge of the field, and then spread the blankets out among the freshly tilled soil.  The custom being, that a couple that spent their wedding night in a freshly tilled field would be blessed with fertility.  I didn't bother to tell Andar that I already knew the truth of our "fertility." 

      I stood before him, watching him, as I began to remove my clothes, piece by piece, until I stood naked before him.  Andar did like wise, all though his eyes never left mine.  Then I did something that startled him, I think.  I took the end of my braid and pulled the tie off.  My fingers moved slowly, deliberately, as I pulled the crimson strands free of their constraints.  

      "Raine…what are you doing?"  He asked.  I kept my eyes down, focused on my task as I slowly answered him.  I did not know whether or not he would laugh or think me silly…but I had said, once, that I would only take my hair down for my husband…and Andar was now that man.

      "No one man has seen my hair down since I was six years old…not Jael…not Gull…not a single one of my lovers…at first it wasn't deliberate…only that Lady Emilia would braid my hair…and when I was big enough, I would do it myself.  Then when I was fifteen…after…well…you know…I told myself that the first man I'd let touch my hair…see it down and loose from the braid would be my husband…he had to be someone I loved enough to give my trust to…and I would only marry someone I trust.  You see, I could never give you my virginity…even if I'd not touched another man after that day, it was still gone.  So this is all I can give you in its place."  By that time, I finished pulling the last bit loose, and shook my hair.  Unbound, my hair stopped just above my ankles, and covered me almost as fully as any blanket.  It was a strange sensation, as I was so very used to the braid…the concentrated weight on the back of my neck.  Finally, I looked back up to his eyes.  He was awestruck.  He took a step forward, and wonderingly ran his fingers through my hair… brought a lock of red to his face and rubbed the strands against his lips, breathing in deeply.

      "Raine…I never…what an amazing gift," he whispered.  

      "You don't think it's silly?" I asked, feeling uncommonly nervous.

      "Of course not…I'm…honored…not only for this, but that you trust me…that you love me.  You can't know how that makes me feel."

      "Yes I can," I whispered, "You've tried to show me everyday since we met… only I was too stubborn to see it until now."  

      He kissed me.  At first he was gentle and soft…and the kiss seemed no different from all the others that had gone before…then it changed…became hungrier…more desperate.  Now whether that desperation came from having gone so long without, or from the excitement over the wedding, I don't know.  I only know that I liked it.  His arms slipped around me, and I felt his hands gathering my hair together in the back.  I stepped closer into his embrace, tilting my head up to keep his mouth on mine, twining my arms around his neck, and pulling him closer still.  His body felt warm…warmer than the night air…against me…the light dusting of hair on his chest felt coarse and arousing against my breasts.  

      A moment later, Andar pulled down to the blanket with him, pushing me down onto my back.  He knelt above me; looking down at me, then lowered his mouth to my neck.  His breath was hot against my skin, and he kissed upwards until he reached the tips of my ear…and began to use his tongue to tease.  Now, for anyone with pointed ears, even half–elves, like me…one of the most sensitive, and arousing spots on our bodies, is the tips of our ears.  I am no exception, so when he started that, I gasped sharply, and arched upwards at the bolt of pleasure that tore through me, heading straight downwards, and instantly arousing me.  Andar's hands came up, and moved over my breasts, teasing me even further.  Now, I allowed this "torture" to go on for a few more minutes, but really, I was far too desperate to play much.  With a burst of willpower, and pulled away from him, and brought his mouth back to mine.

      "Andar…" I pleaded, in between kisses.  "Andaaar…please…"

      "Please what?" he gasped, as I slipped one hand down his chest, and wrapped my fingers tightly around his hard, arousal.

      "Please…make love...to me…now!!" I demanded.

      "Anything, love."  He replied, leaning back for a moment.  I spread my legs to him, and he settled between them, propping himself up on his elbows to watch me.

      "You are mine now, Raine…mine and no one else's," he stated.

      "Yes…Andaar…now!"  I pleaded; writhing beneath him…I can't ever remember wanting a man so much as I did now.  He moved upward, thrust his entire length into me.  I arched my back, cried out for more.  He immediately obliged, pulling almost completely out, and then sliding back in again.  We immediately fell into the rhythm that we both knew well…he thrust in, harder and faster each time, and I rose to meet each downward movement, drawing him deeper into me.  I wrapped my legs around him, and pulled his mouth down to mine.  My arms wrapped around his chest, and for a moment, it seemed that there was no part of me that was not touching a part of him…we weren't two people and longer, but one creature, bound together.  In that moment, he was the only thing in the world that mattered to me.  

           Our tempo quickened, as I felt myself hit the edge of my control…then, with one more deep penetration, I climaxed with a scream, shaking beneath him.  Not quite there yet, Andar kept moving, making my climax that much more intense, until finally, he came as well, making no motions to pull away, as he spilled himself inside me.  For a few long moments, we lay there, his weight heavy on me, breathing harshly.  Odd, that sometimes it seems like it takes more energy, more focus to make love, than it does when I'm battling an enemy.  I suppose there's a strange logic in that, but at the time, I was too happy to contemplate it further.

      Naturally, that was only the beginning of our wedding night…as I've stated many times before…Andar has a great deal of stamina…more than I do, actually.   Things were going wonderful…well, actually better than that if you can imagine, until, after our third "round," Andar finally noticed something.

      He was laying on his back, on the blanket, while I was straddling him, leaning back against his bent knees, his sated cock still inside me.  He was running his hands along my thighs, and upwards, over my belly…when his hands suddenly stilled. His hands moved back, and settled just where the flatness was beginning to swell outwards.  Then I felt it…a faint, whisper-soft movement from within…then again, stronger than before.  Amazed, I put my own hands to my belly to feel it.  My baby was moving!

      I can't tell you how odd I felt in that moment…on the one hand, I could feel Andar inside of me, and on the other, my baby.  It was like someone was touching me from within, and until that moment, the baby had not been real to me.  But now it was moving…a living thing, inside of me…it was no longer just a thought.  I felt powerful and protective and awed, all at once.  There was a life in me…something that Andar and I had created…and it was growing… and I was the only protection that life had until it was ready to join this world.  

      So then I looked down at Andar, saw wonder written across his face as clear as day…and then he darkened as he looked up at me.  He sat up suddenly, sliding out of me, as I fell backwards.  

      "You knew, didn't you?" His voice was angry, brown eyes glittering in the moonlight.

      "Yes," I replied simply.  "But it didn't start moving until just now."

      "You're with child," he stated, flatly.

      "Obviously," I snapped…wondering for a moment why he was upset.  I wondered then…what if Andar did not want children?  Well, too bloody, bad, seeing as it's already too late for that.

      "Why…didn't…you…tell…me?" he bit out.

      "Revenge," I replied, with a toss of my head.  I pushed the hair from my face.

      "What? Why?!"  He asked, bewildered, in his anger.

      "Because of that damned song, that's why!  I was so…bloody…furious with you about that song!  I hate it when people take away my control!  You took my choices away…you didn't let me decide anything for myself!  I wanted to…get back at you for doing that to me.  So I took away your right to know.  I decided that you wouldn't get to know about the baby until you were willing to give in, and take my clothes off, and find out for yourself."

      "How could you keep this from me?!" He demanded, grabbing me roughly.

      "What if you were hurt, or something went wrong?  How would I have known to help you?!"

      "I didn't need your help!" I shouted at him.

      "I'm the healer here!  There are some things I need to know!"  He yelled right back.

      "There are more clerics at this keep than you!"

      "Oh…Guar?  Yes, that's right…I'm certain a battle oriented, half-orc priest knows a great deal about pregnancies and babies," he sneered.

      "Like you do?!"

      "More than Guar!"

      "I didn't tell Guar!  I told my mother…remember…the priestess of Labelas… who's already had five children?!"

      "You should have told me anyhow!" he snapped, reverting to his original argument.  Annoyed, now, I jerked my arms from his bruising grip.

      "Why do you care?  Are you so certain that you're the father?" I looked away from him.  I couldn't believe that we were arguing on our wedding night…but then…this is what I wanted right?  I wanted revenge on him for that song…and though I felt a return of my control, as I had wanted…for I had control over the baby and what happened to it, by default of being its mother. Now that I had it, I realized that this was not what I had wanted, after all.

      "Well…is it mine, then?"  He asked.  Now I was angry.  I spun on him, glaring.

      "How dare you ask me that, when you're the only one who didn't use the cassil?!"

      "You didn't want me to!" he returned.

      "If you have to ask, then you can damn well wait and see what color skin it's born with!" I shrieked, much like the banshee whose name I used. I turned away from him, started to move away, when his arms wrapped around me, imprisoning me for the moment.

      "Raine!  Stop this!  I know that it's mine…I'm upset that you didn't tell me, that's all.  I'm not upset about the baby…Please look at me," he asked, lowering his voice, forcing calm back into it.  I took a deep breath, and looked back at him.

      "Please…look, I'm sorry about the song, and what I did…I thought it was the only way…but I was wrong.  Like I said…I never meant to hurt you…I love you.  I just…I wish you had told me sooner, that's all."

      "I don't know why you care," I sniffled, refusing to let myself cry.

      "Because you're my wife …and it's my baby…I want to know that you're both all right." He smiled then, looked downwards, his hand sliding down to my belly.

      "I can hardly believe it…a baby," he breathed.  "Not even married a day, and now I'm to be a father."

      "Did you not want to be one?" I asked.

      "Raine…of course I want to be a father!  I want lots of children…and I hope that they all look just like you," he grinned.

      "I don't know about lots…but…we'll at least have this one."  I said softly.

      "It moved just before, didn't it?" He asked.  I nodded.

      "Imagine…we created that life inside you.  It'll be part of both of us," he marveled.

      "Andar…I don't really know if…what if…what if I'm not a good mother?  I don't know anything about babies!" I exclaimed suddenly, standing up.  "I know more about fighting and stealing and killing than I do about children."

      "Shh…don't worry.  All mothers have to learn eventually…you will too.  And I'm sure your mother can help you with any questions."  I sighed, and stepped into his arms, which automatically came up to wrap around me. 

      "I love you," I told him, leaning my cheek against his bare shoulder.  

      "And I love you…now then…we have months to worry about the baby and being good parents…wasn't this our wedding night, though?  Let's do something more…fun than arguing," he suggested.  I was only too happy to comply.

      So, things have been going well for a while now…I haven't had much time to write lately…but then again not much noteworthy has really occurred since my wedding night.  It's actually been about two months since then…hey, I've been busy.  Pretty much, I've been doing the day to day stuff that goes on in the keep.  Of course, one of the problems is that after that last sunny day, it's been rainy and dreary.  We've heard rumors that something strange is going on up north, but no one seems to know what.  The problem here is, that if the rain doesn't stop soon, we'll lose a lot of our crops, as will everyone else in the dalelands…and I gather that would be a very bad thing in more ways than one.  

      As for the keep business, well, my parents finally went home the other day… needless to say neither they, nor I were happy about it, but Beckett and Thera and Joslyn had schooling that was being neglected, and they had to go back and check on things there.  Mother says that they'll be back soon enough; all though she and Dad might take turns coming to visit, that way one of them is always with the younger kids.  And they promised that they both be back around the time I have to give birth.

        The truth of the matter is that I kind of miss Beckett and the others…well…not Joslyn really, as she seemed to hate the keep, and everyone here, claiming we were all dirty and uncivilized.  But I rather liked Thera after our first disastrous meeting…she really is a lot like I was at her age…only without the thieving tendencies.  And Beckett, while a bit of a trial, was rather amusing most of the time, and could always be counted on to liven up any boring day.

      Tristain is still here, however.  He claims he has no intentions of going anywhere for a while.  I asked him if he meant to go adventuring again, but he claimed not any time soon.  He seemed rather happy enough to pass the time at the keep.  He gets along well enough with Andar, I suppose, all though they do like to argue…not unlike myself.  Dazelin's come up a few times, apparently as bored of the bad weather as everyone else is.  He brought his "friend" Cally up again, and I gathered from their conversations that they've been spending a lot of time together…if I know Dazelin, though, a great deal of that time is spent in bed.  I have to say, that I rather like Cally.  She's very friendly, and talkative once you get her going. Seeing as how she's a priestess of Elistraee, she and Andar tend to fall to discussing religions, while Dazelin and I bitch and insult each other as creatively and cleverly as possible…our new favorite pastime.  

      However, it's awful playing cards with them, seeing as I cheat and Dazelin cheats…but while Cally will sometimes cheat, Andar never does…and of course, we all learned the hard way never to let Violet play with us, seeing as, as far as cheating goes, she makes Dazelin and I look like amateurs.  

      Speaking of Violet, she and Guar were married last week, unsurprisingly.  They had a real small, quiet ceremony, with only the few of us there.  They bought a large house a few miles out from Ashabenford, which they're happily fixing up now.  I'm glad that they seem really happy…Guar is completely enamored of Violet…and I suppose, that for a half-orc, she's quite a…uh…catch.  

      The main structure of the elven tower will be done in about another month or two, and we've had a couple elves approach us about doing the elven part of the work, which will be the finishing work.  Pretty soon I'll have to find some elves to take up residence in the tower, as well as some soldiers and a captain that I can trust.  We'll eventually call it Kelerandri tower, after the original tower, for Lyklor.  Needless to say that the ghost is happy as…well…as happy as a ghost can be, I suppose.  I gather he's been haunting here since the tower fell hundreds years ago, and having it back will be like a dream come true for him.

      On the subject of towers, Takklinn and Kedra put up their tower, and there are now several outbuildings attached to it.  Needless to say the dwarves of the area are happy with all this work and extra pay.  Their tower is pretty much being called Steelguard tower, Steelguard being Takklinn's family name.  We're working on extending one of the tunnels below, down to their tower, so the three places will be connected.  That way, sleet, snow, or fog, Takklinn will be over to the keep for work every morning.  Takklinn's squire has been promoted to night Captain, so that Takklinn can have time with Kedra.

      And while we're talking about Kedra, I've come to the conclusion that despite common belief, pregnancy is catching.  Now, I'm about five months along as it stands, and I feel rather like I've swallow a small melon whole…or at least my belly looks like I have.  That means I'll probably have a big baby…or so my mother said.  Wonderful.  Anyhow, so what I mean by that, is that about a month after my wedding, Kedra announced that she and Takklinn were "expecting." Just before their wedding, Violet confided that she and Guar would be having one as well, come next year.  And, well…I rather suspect that Dazelin has forgotten to use his cassil…or else Cally wouldn't let him…now, with them, it's just a suspicion, but I've noticed something…different about Cally, since I met her.  Something like my mother described to me…that pregnant woman thing.  Only in the past week or so, but in any case, I'd bet my swords that there is a mini-Dazelin in the making with them…even If I don't know whether or not she knows it yet.  So, overall, by next year, there ought to be quite a few kids popping up…or out, as the case will be. 

      All in all, though life has been pretty calm…which really means that things have been pretty boring…gods!  I'm beginning to feel…domesticated.  How horrible.  Gull keeps laughing about it, but for all his poking, I've noticed that he doesn't seem inclined to go anywhere…even to pick pockets or anything.  Still, he seems to be enjoying himself…he's still training Nym and the other soldiers...although he seems rather glum with Beckett gone…I think he rather wants Beckett to be his apprentice, so to speak…after all, Beck has "potential," and the right temperament to boot…meaning prone to mischief, like I was.  He fills his days though, a great deal of time he's holed up with Jeblek, the two of them putting their heads together on nasty traps, and defenses for the keep…if it ever gets attacked.  Not that I think it's likely to be…and the really sad thing is that I'm almost disappointed about that.  I mean, sure I built it as a deterrence, but I kind of hoped the drow would try something!  If nothing else, at this point, it would break the day-to-day monotony.  Besides, I really didn't think we were that threatening…or at least I didn't think so, until I started hearing the stories going around about how we'd smashed the cult…along with the older tales about our fight with the Zhentarim, and the dragons at Aencar's manor.

      As for Andar, we've been doing fairly well, as a married couple.  I've found that I'm quite content, being with him, and he hasn't turned into some controlling bastard, like I'd feared…well…not completely.  What I mean by that is that the farther along I get in my pregnancy, the more nervous and "protective" he gets.  He doesn't want me walking around with my swords on, in case I fall, or something…well, I nixed that idea...imagine…me…unarmed!  Never happen.  He won't let me walk up or down the stairs anywhere in the keep by myself…and if he can't be there to watch me, then his little spies are…his spies being my own damned soldiers, who, as they're mostly men, seem to agree with Andar that I should be careful in my "delicate" condition.  Delicate, my ass…I haven't been delicate a day in my life, and I'm healthier now than I was before I was pregnant.  Still, I let him fuss, just a little…it seems to amuse him, and it doesn't really bother me as much as I like to let on.  

      The baby has actually been moving a lot more since then, which can get kind of annoying when I want to sleep…but...not that annoying.  I can't really explain exactly how it feels, only that I smile every time it moves. I've begun to feel really protective towards my belly, and I've noticed that my hands keep hovering over it whenever I'm walking about.

      So, things were going fairly well at that point in my life…and then the drow attacked.

      Ok, so maybe it was quite as sudden as that, but they did attack…it's just that we'd had forewarning, from a source I'd nearly forgotten about.

      I'd been out for a walk, fairly late in the afternoon, to take a swim out at the pond in the woods nearby.  Summer was fading fast into fall, but it was an unseasonably warm day, and I felt like swimming.  The rain and bad weather had finally let up…did I mention that yet?  Anyhow, so that meant Andar was out in the fields checking crops and such, seeing which ones could be saved for the harvest, and which ones had been ruined by the rain.  That meant he wasn't around to "baby-sit" me.  I had managed to sneak away from the rest of the people in the keep, and was glad to finally have a few minutes completely to myself.  

      So I had just stripped down and gotten in the water, which was rather on the chilly side, but refreshing for all that, when I heard a noise.  I looked around, only to see a very dark-skinned being step from the woods…ok, so she wasn't just dark-skinned…but a drow.  Immediately wary, I began to slowly make my way to the edge of the pond…and then I recognized her.  Thinking it best to put her off-guard a bit, in case she did have something devious in mind, I called out.

      "Gwen!  Well fancy running into you here!"  For a moment, the drow woman, who we'd rescued along with Dazelin and Inialos so long ago, looked startled as she stared at me.

      "Well, don't just stand there, have a seat," I gestured to a nearby rock.  "I'll just get out and towel off, and we'll have a chat."  I was still getting the same bewildered stare…she'd always seemed confused when I chatted at her like she was a friend, instead of the "scary drow" she tried to make herself out to be.  You see, though, the thing is, with Gwenect…whenever I treated her like a friend, I sensed a bit of wavering…like she was wondering if a friend might be something she would like to be…or have.  She's much like Dazelin in that respect, even if Dazelin had complained endlessly that the "drow bitch" was nothing like himself.  

      Finally, she shook her head.

      "This isn't a social call, half-breed."

      "Now, now…there's always time to talk, Gwen.  And you know my name," I admonished, as I dried off, as heedless about my nudity as she was about looking.

      "Raine, then…I came to repay my debt."

      "What debt?"  I queried, playing stupid.

      "You know what debt," she hissed, irritatedly.

      "Oh…saving your life?  I've told you Gwen, you don't owe me anything."  Now, according to Dazelin, a true drow would've taken that statement, agreed with it, and maybe stabbed me with a poisoned dagger just for the fun of it.  But that's not what Gwenect did.

      "Of course I do…and I mean to repay the debt, if you'll stop behaving so idiotically!" she snapped.  I finished dressing, and strapped my sword belt back on, just below my swelling stomach, feeling a bit safer now.  The game I was playing with Gwenect I knew to be a dangerous one…and I had to be careful not to push her too far too fast.  

      "Well, let's sit for a minute then…rather hard for me to be on my feet too long anymore," I pressed my hand to my belly, playing up my pregnancy.  Gwen looked down, and I think she was, for a minute, surprised.  I sat down, and in her surprise, so did she.

      "Oh…I suppose it belongs to one of your…lovers?"  She asked…I knew she meant Daz or Inialos, seeing as I'd started sleeping with the both of them during the same week that I was trying to "make  friends" with her.

      "Nope…my husband's actually…yeah, I know, more fool me, for slipping on the chain and shackles willingly, right?"  Gwen shook her head again, then looked angry.

      "I don't have time for this foolishness!  I've come to warn you that the drow will attack your keep tomorrow night.  The word is out through the woods about it, and I thought you should be prepared.  They will probably use one of the more set attack patterns on your home.  A small group will come over the wall, and drug your sentries with poisoned bolts.  They'll let down the gates and signal to the larger force, which will come in and kill everything within your keep.  And that's all the help I can give you!"  She stood up quickly, and meant to leave, but I caught her by the arm.

      "Hey, Gwen…wait a sec!"  She paused, looking down to where I was grabbing her, as though wondering what my hand was doing there.

      "Thanks…for warning me.  I really appreciate it."

      "My debt is fulfilled," she replied, waspishly.

      "Gwen…you know…there is another way besides the one you're taking."  I guess she know what I meant, for she snorted derisively.

      "The spider bitch?  I think not...there is nothing in her way to like.  Vhaeraun's way is better."  I shook my head.

      "Not Lolth…Elistraee."

      "Elistraee is weak, and her followers even more so!"  Gwen declared.

      "Are you so certain?"  I asked, searching her face.  The wavering I hoped to see was there.

      "We always defeat them…"

      "Is it because they are weak…or because their numbers are few?  Gwen…you can be so much more than what you are now…your knowledge would be of great assistance to the people here."

      "And what care I for pitiful humans?!"

      "Isn't one of Vhaeraun's tenets to work with the surface folk?" I asked, recalling something Cally had told me.  "How is attacking them, working with them?"  Gwen did not answer me.

      "Think on it…I would appreciate further aid…or even warnings…if you wish, I can pay you….but as for the other…think hard on what you believe…and if you wish to know more, come back and talk with me…I know folk who follow the Dark Maiden…and I know that their way is a good one."

      Again Gwen did not answer, but yanked her arm from my grasp, and stalked back into the shadows, from whence she came.  But I thought I heard her whisper…in the drow language that Dazelin didn't realize that I was learning from him and from Cally.  I think I heard her say, "I shall think on it…"

      Needless to say as soon as Gwenect was gone, I hied myself back to keep as fast as I could safely go.  And immediately called everyone in the keep out to the yards, and told them what was happening.  There was no panic, as I had feared for a moment…only a momentary ripple of unease that passed quickly, replaced by…anticipation.  But then I remembered that the soldiers had been training all winter and spring and summer for a potential drow attack that had yet to come.  They were still angry at their failure with the Cult of the Dragon…now, here, was the chance to redeem themselves, to test their skills, and the defenses they had been working on. 

      We turned the great hall into an impromptu war room, as we began planning strategies.  The first thing we decided was that we had to be quiet about our preparation, should any drow be currently watching the keep.  We couldn't let them know that we were forewarned.  So we immediately sent Takklinn's squire and Kedra down to Glen.  The dwarves would meet at the tower in the night, and continue working throughout tomorrow…only most of the village would be there.  Then they would go into the basement, and through the hidden tunnels, through Lyklor's hall, and up into the keep, so that the drow would have a surprise waiting for them.  Next, I dispatched one of the men to ride down to Ashabenford, as though on an errand.  In reality, he was being sent to the Riders of Mistledale.  They, too, would gather at the tower, and conceal their horses inside, on the first floor.  Only a few would arrive at a time, so as not to seem suspicious.  Messages were dispatched to Inialos, Guar and Violet, and Dazelin…the rangers were to be ready, but they had to go about their business…in case the drow were already in the area.  Dazelin was told to get up here as soon as possible, and to bring with him as many antidotes as he could make for the drow sleep poison.  Seeing as he grew up among the Underdark drow, and is an alchemist, I assumed he would know how to make the potions.  Warnings were sent to Lord Ilmeth, Wolcott, and Lord Haresk, but only telling them what was going to happen, and not to send anyone, for we didn't want the drow to suspect anything.

      Then we began the preparations inside the keep.  The first thing we did was make certain that all of Jeblek's and Gull's traps were in working order.  We worked out several plans of attack, and took volunteers for the men who would be willing to stand as the sentries on the wall when the drow attacked.  There were no small number…many of them were men who had suffered from previous attacks, and were willing to risk their lives to get vengeance on the dark skinned marauders.  These would be the first people armed with the antidote, although, when they were struck, they would pretend to go down, and let the first drow get to the gate, lower the bridge, and give the signal.  We would give them that much rope, the better to hang themselves.  As soon as the second group of drow began to move towards the keep, the sentries would take out the initial group of the drow, and everyone below would be in position.  We'd let the drow in, and light up the area with magic, and flashes.  All of my soldiers had potions of darkvision, and hopefully, the light with surprise the drow, in only for a second.  Then the dwarves of Glen, as well as the keep soldiers would attack, using the techniques we'd all been practicing for months now.  A signal would go out to the elven tower a minute into the fight, and the riders would come from the tower.  In a practice run, we learned that it would take less than a minute for them to get to the gate, at a full gallop.  The drow would be closed in, with no escape, save though the horses, and the riders.  And that, pretty much was our plan.

      So it went into affect.  The players began to move into their positions quickly and efficiently.  The riders came up, no more than two at a time, at intervals all through the night and the next day.  The dwarves of Glen were more than happy to help, and began to fill the tower with their numbers as well.  I received a bird with a message later the next day, from Inialos.  They were watching and they were ready.  Dazelin and Cally showed up in my tower via magical teleportation later in the afternoon, Daz with a grumpy expression, and a bag full of vials.  They quickly asked what had occurred and I explained just as quickly.  Dazelin was mildly annoyed when I told him who'd given me the information.

      "That bitch?" he snorted.  "She probably gave you false information just to stir you up…which is working just according to her plan, then."

      "All the same," I replied, "We're going to be ready."  Cally, however, seemed more willing to believe that the threat was valid, and more than a little interested when I explained that I thought Gwen might not truly be a devout follower of Vhaeraun…that she mentioned she would think about what I had said.  Cally, being a priestess of Elistraee, was naturally interested in any possible conversions.

      So things fell into place, quickly and efficiently, as everyone else, including Guar arrived.  Guar seemed rather happy at the idea of battle, seeing as we'd all been pretty bored with the easiness of life without adventure.  Andar, however, was a different story.

      He and I had it out earlier that morning.  He did not want me involved in the battle at all, saying that a woman five months pregnant had no business fighting a battle.  He used the reasons that I had no armor that currently fit, that I was slower than I had been three months ago, that I was being selfish, and not thinking of our child's safety…

      I showed him the magical bracers that I meant to use…items that would protect me almost as well as armor…better even; since the magic would deflect the blows, while amour would merely keep me from being sliced up.  He still wasn't happy.  I resented the fact that he thought I wasn't thinking about the baby…of course I was!  If the drow succeeded in their attack, then the baby would die, along with myself.  By fighting the drow, I would be making certain that we did not fail.

      He claimed that the men could handle the attack without me. I countered that I was their leader, and I had to be there, then added that if there was anyone who wouldn't be in the battle, it would be himself, seeing as I couldn't risk losing him.  He didn't much like that statement either.  He shouted that he was the husband, and he was supposed to protect me, and I replied that marriage was a fifty-fifty thing, and as far as I was concerned, I did the hurting and he could do the healing.

      And finally, I just told him that there was nothing he could do, short of magic, that would keep me from the battle…and if he used magic, and we failed…that I would never forgive him.

      He still didn't want me to do this…but I gave him no choice.  So in the end, he agreed, but only so long as I agreed not to put myself directly in danger… like there would be any place but in a battle with drow?…and only so long as I kept Tristain, Guar, and at least two of my better trained men by me at all times.  So I agreed…although with Guar…who knows…I can't very well keep a berserker in one place during a battle.

      I found out later that Takklinn had a similar argument with Kedra, but he, too, lost.  You'd think that these men would realize that they married adventurers…and fighters, to boot.  Kedra and I were about as likely to be kept from a battle, as Guar was, pregnant or not.  Besides…as far as experience goes …to remove Kedra and I, would be to take away two of the most experienced people from the battle…and that loss could cause the whole endeavor to fail.  I could not let that happen.

      Night fell, and the hours passed, until it was close to the middle of the night.  The sentries were ready though, and they noticed the faint movement down by the edge of the moat, despite the fact that the drow were so well concealed.  They were ready when the poisoned bolts came at them, and fell heavily to the walls, as though sleeping.  Five drow came over the walls, using magic…spider climb, or levitation, I think.  One of them fell prey to one of Gull's nastier traps, which involved a rather large, bear trap hidden beneath a pressure plate that my men knew to avoid.  His fellows hardly slowed, except to "silence" their fallen comrade.  They went directly for the gate controls, just as Gwen had warned.  The gate went down, and the portcullis went up.  Though we didn't know at the time, the drow had also jammed mechanisms so that we would not be able to raise them again in any hurry.  Boy, did Jeblek complain about that later.  The signal went out, a flash of light reflected off a mirror from the torchlights. As soon as one of the sentries, who'd conveniently fallen onto the rampart of the wall saw the movement coming from the forest…at least 50 drow headed in, he gave our own signal, and he and the other sentries rose silently…many of them having been trained by Gull, and fell upon the drow.  The area were they fought, in the gatehouse was magically silenced by Cally, who was hidden with Dazelin and Andar in a secret spot on the wall, where they would have the best view of the battle area, and thus, could do the most damage, without being in harm's way.

      The drow came in quickly, and as soon as they hit the gates, began to fan out across the courtyard.  And then surprise turned against them, when the shadows of the keep erupted with movement. A flash of light from above heralded the attack, as Dazelin cast a fireball to the center of the drow, and Cally and Andar called down flamestrikes on the drow who wore no armor…the wizards.

      The drow, however, seemed to shrug off the fireball, as Dazelin had warned us.  The wizards did not far so well against the holy magic, though.

      With a fearsome battle cry to Moradin, the dwarves of Glen charged, axes swinging, even as the archers on the roofs of the building took careful aim, and sliced into the drow numbers with poisoned missiles of our own.  From one of Jeblek's contraptions, which had been turned so that it faced the courtyard, a huge ballista bolt speared three drow in one hit, the men who'd fired it, shouted in gleeful victory.  My men moved forward, as did Kedra, Guar, and I.  The drow, however, were cannier fighters than our usual opponents, and blocked more attacks, from more angles than I would've thought possible.  And worse, many of them were hasted.  But we held our own, and I felt the familiar rush of elation, as I joined the fight, Banshee's Wail screaming, and Winter's Eye glowing brightly in the dark.  Beside me, Tristain fought well, and his flashy style, gave way to a quickness that had him countering and striking many hits on his opponent.  Guar's roar could be heard from somewhere within the thick of battle, and I raised my voice, and joined him with my scream.  From the drow, though, there was silence…only the clashing of blades.  Magic flared around us, at various points through the battle area.  I heard Mr. Chitters' familiar chitter…and a scream as he tore into a drow, finally having the chance to do what he'd been trained.

      Then, even as the battle went on, with the keep side still having the advantage…only slightly though, there came a sound of thundering hooves…the riders of Mistledale arrived, circling just outside the gate.  The drow saw this…and realized that they were now outnumbered more than two to one…and that we now had horses…a distinct advantage.  There was no sound, but somehow, the drow got a sign to retreat, for all of them left standing withdrew…and ran towards the gate.  They braved the line of horses, cutting down mounts, and riders, as they slipped by…although taking damage as well.  By the time the battle was done…twenty of the fifty-five had escaped…many of them wounded.  The others had been killed.  Out of our own people, we'd lost four dwarves, 3 of the men from Mistledale, two of my men, and two from Battledale.  Nearly everyone had taken wounds, but thanks to the quick actions of the three clerics, none of the wounds proved to be fatal.  We lost 10…but they lost thirty-five.  We still had control of the keep, and the drow had retreated.  So, all in all, I'd say that we won, wouldn't you?

      I had only taken a slight wound to the arm…which, naturally, Andar fussed over, as though it were a mortal blow.  Silly man.  I was more than happy to tell Dazelin that he'd been wrong, to which he made grouchy noises, and mumbled dirty words under his breath in drow.  Boy is he going to be surprised to learn that I knew what he was saying.

      The following morning dawned brightly, and there was a sense of triumph, and accomplishment among the men, hardly dimmed by the loss of the men who'd died.  We buried them all, the soldiers and dwarves in honorable graves, which I would have stones commissioned for as soon as possible, and the drow in large, common graves, out in the woods. 

      Word of our victory against the drow spread quickly, mostly by the riders and the dwarves of Glen.  We received messages from Lord Ilmeth and Lord Haresk, congratulating us.  I'm sure they, no doubt, were glad to see the keep finally serving the purpose for which it was built.  In Ashabenford, and Essembra, any one who lived and worked at the keep was thanked for what they'd done…even the maids…who incidentally, had killed a drow who had managed to get past the battle lines, and into the great hall…aided in no small part by Miri, who'd clocked him in the head with a frying pan, yelling that he was tracking dirt into her hall.

      After the battle, life went back to normal again.  The drow did not retaliate, or try another attack, even though we were on guard for many months afterwards for just such a thing.

      Time was taken up as the harvest time arrived, and Andar was moving about, all though the area, aiding people once the keep's crops were in.  I hardly saw him, from sun up to sun down.  I helped a bit around the keep, but as my belly got bigger, I seemed to be more and more tired.  I always felt hungry, and sleepy. After a while, I began to feel like some sort of pig…fat, and doing nothing but eating and sleeping.  

      I eventually gave up on trying to entice people into swordplay or practice with me…no one was willing to take the chance that they might "hurt" me.  As if there was anyone, short of Guar and Kedra, who was capable of being my equal in battle, anyhow!  Andar limited me to only an hour or two out in the fields a day, physically picking me and bringing me back to the keep if I resisted.  And if that wasn't bad enough, when the snows began to fall when I seven months along, he had Gull hide my swords, and locked the damned armory!  I was so mad I was ready to kill him!  Not that I couldn't have picked the lock, had I felt like it…  And no one was on my side… except Kedra, of course…but considering the force of…men…arrayed against us, she was little enough help. Violet was all too happy to let Guar being over-bearing and domineering…claiming that men needed to feel useful, and they did so by being annoying.  Well, I think there are a lot better ways that Andar can feel useful, other than making my life miserable!  It's not like it isn't bad enough that I feel like some sort of overgrown duck…all awkward and fat…but he has to take away the few things I do for fun!

      He claims, of course, that I like playing music, too, and that he has no problem with that…but of course, I have to be perverse, and yell that I don't want to play any damned music.

      My parents came back during a break in the snows, to spend the rest of the winter here, at the keep.  My younger siblings seemed particularly unhappy about this idea, seeing as there was no one to play with their age at the keep, besides Nym, who generally avoided them, disliking Thera's violence, Joslyn's whining, and Beckett's pranks…or so he'd told me.  That meant that Beckett was being ten times worse than usual, and this time with snow as a weapon in his mischief.  Thank the gods for Gull…seeing as my old teacher kept Beckett mostly occupied.  Joslyn kept to her room and pouted…and poor Nym has been suffering Thera's wrath, despite his attempts to avoid her.

      My parents kept me occupied for all of a day, before I was bored again.  I wasn't speaking to Andar at the moment, seeing as he was being mean to me.  I wanted to go into town and visit with people…people that I didn't see everyday of my life…but oh no…"you can't ride, Raine"… "What if you fall off?" "You know you're not a good rider…" AAAAHHH!!!!   I'm going crazy!  I hate being pregnant!  I'll never do this again!

      Okay…so it's not so much being pregnant that bothers me…just the attitudes of everyone around me.  I am not helpless!  I'm the least helpless person I know!  I can take care of myself…and I should be allowed to do whatever I want, damnit.  It's not fair.  I hate everyone.  Why are they all being so rotten to me?  They should be nice.  Especially my soldiers…damnit…I pay they to listen to _me_…not Andar!  And I hate snow…why does it have to be so cold…and wet?  Why does there have to be so much of it?  I'm so bored.  There's nothing to do…nothing fun, anyhow.  Guar and Violet are snowed in, in Ashabenford.  Kedra's holed up in her forge, and won't come out…at least Takklinn hasn't taken away the things she likes to do.  Mother keeps trying to get me to sew with her…she's making clothes for the baby, even though she brought a whole trunk of mine, and the others' old baby clothing.  I hate sewing…I'm not any good at it.  And there's nothing fun about stabbing my fingers with needles.  I'm tired of sleeping…and I hate Andar.  He doesn't care about me…just about the baby.  I swear, if one more person tells me what I should or shouldn't do/eat/drink, because of the baby, I'll scream and break every damned window in the keep…again. I never should have married him…and my damned back hurts.  No one is on my side, damn it.  And it's not fair!  I hope Tristain feels every ache and pain I do…he deserves it for taking Andar's side.  He's _my_ twin!  I should beat Andar up.  I can't even play with Mr. Chitter's seeing as he's hibernating for the winter.  

      Oh, and the tower's done…but it's empty right now.  The winter came before we could finish furnishing it, so it's not ready to live in yet.  We've got it all locked up, and magicked so that no one can get into it.  It turned out really nice…all solid and strong, but pretty on the inside, and the outside, thanks to the elves.  The tower's white, as though it were made entirely of marble, even though I know it was made of granite…whether it was a spell, or just a façade, I don't know…only that it look amazing…all smooth and tall…a perfect contrast to the dark adamantine metal of Steelguard tower to the south.   Some of the elves said they'd come back in the spring…why does it have to be winter?  At least if it was spring, I could be talking with the elves, finding people to live at the tower, and guard it.  Oh no…it has to be winter, so there nothing interesting to do! 

      I swear, if I have to be pregnant much longer, I'll go mad.  9 months…it's been almost 9 months, and I look like I swallowed a pumpkin whole.  I can't sleep because my back hurts, and I can never get comfortable.  None of my clothes fit right…and I get tired just walking! My feet are swollen…my fingers are swollen…I keep crying and getting upset over stupid things…everyone must think I'm a weakling.  No one will ever respect me again.  Andar keeps trying to say that we shouldn't have sex anymore…because we might hurt the baby…but I swear, if he takes one more thing I like to do away from me…I…I don't know what I'll do, but he won't like it…not one bit.  And it'll be dire…I swear it! I love him, but he's driving me insane.  About the only thing I've done of any interest since the snow began was to turn the top floor of my tower into a nursery…or rather I was "allowed" to supervise.  Naturally, I wasn't allowed to so much as lift a paint brush, never mind that I'm stronger than most of the people in the keep.  We'd bought all of the furnishings way back, just after my wedding…and now, with the baby so near to being born, we had to have a room ready for it.  I have to admit, I liked how the nursery turned out.  We whitewashed all of the walls, and mother…who apparently was an excellent artist on top of being damned near perfect at everything else, painted all these pictures on the walls…like castles and knights and animals and forests and so on.  We put a large wooden cradle in the room, as well as a regular bed, for when the baby got older.  And there were toys…all sorts of toys…stuffed animals and dolls and a wooden horse and blocks…you name it, and some one had bought it for my baby.  The old rug on the floor was replaced with this big fluffy rug that was really thick, and green.  It kind of looked like grass, I thought.  So the end result was this huge, bright room that everyone proclaimed was just "perfect" for a baby.  I swear…my kid is going to be the most spoiled creature in the world if this keeps up.  Of course, I was pouting the whole time, seeing as I wasn't allowed to help, except to say where I wanted things to go…so naturally, just to spite Andar, I had him move everything around ten times, before putting them back in the same place that they'd been at the first.  And damn him, he didn't even get miffed…just kept smiling, and patting my belly, and giving me patronizing little kisses on the cheek. 

      And that's another thing…I'm really getting annoyed with people touching my stomach without permission…like being pregnant makes it public domain.  I suppose I don't really mind Andar doing it, seeing as he is my husband…but gods, it's really bothering me.  For some reason I don't really want to be touched right now…and no one understands that, damn it.  And with Andar…well, it seems like he's paying less attention to me, and more to the baby in me.  He hardly talks to me anymore.  Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that I yelled at him the other day…  And I suppose it is really cute how he talks to the baby like it can hear us…although, sometimes I think it can.  

      The problem is, that now, I'm getting worried about the whole birth thing.  I just know it's going to hurt…a lot.  What if I die…or what if the baby dies?  I can't imagine going through this whole, miserable ordeal, only to die.  Mom keeps saying not to worry…I'll have her there…but what if she gets sick?  Or if her spells don't work?  I'm going to die.  I'm just sure of it.  The baby must be too big…There's no way that anything as big as my stomach will fit coming out.  It'll kill me…and won't Andar be sorry then.  He'll have the baby…but not me.  Maybe that's what he wants, anyhow.  Damnit…why can't I stop this infernal crying?!

      I can't sleep.  My back is really staring to hurt…I mean really hurt.  Tomorrow is going to be Midwinter's day.  There'll be a party down in the great hall and everything…with lots of food and music…it won't be any fun.  They'll just make me sit in a damned chair, and not do anything I want to, like dancing, or drinking anything besides water.  Wow, my back really hurts…it's getting really sharp.  I wonder if…naw…  And look at Andar…he's asleep…his back doesn't hurt him.  I keep getting so mad at him lately…I guess I'm being selfish.  He really has tried to be nice, even if he won't let me do anything.  He rubs my back when it hurts me, but I don't feel like waking him up right now.  He was moving snow all day today so that we won't get completely snowed in.  I don't know why I'm being so moody lately.  Everyone must like I'm a bitch… not that I'm not…but now I'm acting like one too.  They probably all think I'm ungrateful.  My head hurts…maybe I'll cut off some of my hair…ow!  By the goddess…that really hurt…maybe I should wake Andar up…but it can't possibly be time….not yet.  Mom said I had another two weeks.  I feel really restless…maybe it's not just my back…oh gods…I'm scared.  I don't want to do this, after all.  The pain is starting to get worse…I think I better wake Andar up after all…please Tymora…I don't want to die tonight…please let everything be all right!

      I never, ever want to go through that ever again!  **_Never!_**  Even after the Cult half-orc beat me up, I didn't feel as much pain.  It was awful…I'd get just enough time to catch my breath before another pain would rip through me.  I hope I woke everybody up with my screams.  Andar was less than worthless, seeing as he was all nervous, and about the only thing he could manage to say was "You'll be okay, love."  Yeah…easy for him to say…seeing as it was all his fault, and he didn't have to suffer in the slightest.  I did!!  Mother came just after I woke Andar up and he ran off to get her.  She arrived, with Shandri, who'd helped her sister give birth before…so at least I didn't have too many witnesses…'cause I looked horrible.  Mom tried to throw Andar out a few times, because he was being stupid, but he flat out refused to leave me.  It was the middle of winter, but I felt too hot, and I kept wanting to move around and try to take some pressure off my back.  I was cursing the whole time, like a two-copper dock-whore, most of the insults directed at my husband, seeing as he was the one responsible for this.  I ended up being in labor for ten hours, which my mother claims was fairly short for my first baby.  She was in labor with Tristain and I for 20 hours.  I think I would've died if I had to go through that much longer.  As it was, I thought I was going to die when the baby's head came out, and I heard something tear.  

      My son was born around noon, on Midwinter's, while everyone else was having a party.  By the time he was born, I was tired, sticky, and crying that I didn't want to do this anymore.  He started wailing as soon as Shandri dunked him into some water to clean all of the blood off, his little voice strong and shrill.  Mom and Andar stopped the bleeding from the tear before it got too bad.  Andar cleaned me up in the tub, while mother changed the bed sheets.  When everyone and everything was all cleaned up, and I was back in my bed, they finally gave me my baby.

      How to describe what I felt when I held him for the first time…I can't really think of it…I've seen newborns…once or twice, and they all looked red and wrinkly…and my son was no different….but somehow, where those other babies had been ugly to me…my own was not.  Oh, he was not beautiful, or perfect looking…but I instantly loved him, and that made him beautiful anyhow.  He was very small, even though my mother claimed, that at 7 pounds, he was a decent size for a newborn.  After all, Tristain and I had only been 4 pounds each.  I noticed my mother has a tendency to bring up her own births as a reference.  

      I guess I was silly, because I unwrapped him, and counted each of his fingers and toes, examined his skin, and his face.  He had a full head of dark hair, and his eyes were, at the moment, a murky, blueish hue.  Satisfied, I rewrapped him, and held him in my arms, feeling rather tired, yet awed, as well.  But, still, before I let myself go to sleep, I gave my son his name.

      Now, I'd always intended to name my children after the people I loved, with my firstborn son to be named after Gull…all though, I don't know if I want to have anymore kids after this nightmarish ordeal…  But, Gull was back, alive again…and it would be awkward to have two people named Alaric at the keep.  So I decided to name him after Gull, only change the name a little, to make it special, as Lady Emilia had one done with my name, Raine.  So, I named my son Alaryn Hawklight.  And after giving my baby up to his daddy, who looked as though I'd just handed him the strangest, most fragile thing in the world, I fell asleep.

      When I woke up later that night, I felt incredibly sore, and still a bit tired… and it took me a moment or two to realize just what had happened.  I was panicked for a moment when I instinctively moved to touch my belly, only to find it nearly flat, instead of round.  Then I remembered and looked around the bedroom.  I found Andar quickly enough…he was seated in a chair, staring down at the small cradle near the bed.  He was awake, and there was a kind of dazed, awestruck expression on his face that made me stay silent instead of letting him know I was awake.  Dimly, from outside, I heard the sound of raised voices and merriment coming from the great hall, the whisper of snow falling…and assumed that it was still the same day.  I watched Andar for a while, even as he watched our baby, who was, apparently asleep in the cradle.  Once he reached his hand in the cradle, to touch the baby, I guess.  Finally, I spoke up…I wanted some attention too, and more importantly, I wanted to hold my son.

      "Andar," I called to him.  He looked up immediately, and came over to the bed and sat down again.  

      "How are you my love?" he asked, caressing my face with the tips of his fingers.  He seemed concerned, but that dazed look was still there as well.

      "Oh, all right I suppose.  I can certainly say that I've felt worse after a battle.  I'm kind of sore, though…and I guess I feel…well…different with the baby outside now, instead of in," I replied truthfully.  The malice I'd felt towards him only hours before seemed to have evaporated, and he was once again just the man I loved, and not the bastard responsible for my torment.  

      "Raine…I…well…thank you," he kissed the palm of my hand.

      "Why's that?" I asked.

      "Well…you given me a great gift…more than one, I guess…your love…your trust…and now, our son.  I keep looking at him…I'm…stunned…I can hardly believe all of this is real, sometimes.  It's like everything has finally gone right, and I can't imagine my life before I you were in it. Everything before you seems like a dream…I'm so in love with you, and I'm in love with our child… does that make sense?"  He asked, his brown eyes locked with mine.  I nodded mutely.  I don't really understand love, that it must be so wonderful and terrible all at once…so great that it feels painful…but at that moment all I could think was how very much I loved my husband, and how glad I was that I hadn't fought him so hard that he'd given up.  And I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, slowly, and his arms wrapped around me…and just then, a wail interrupted the moment, our son making his presence known…apparently he didn't want to be forgotten.  We immediately jumped apart, shocked by the sound.  It was so new.  Andar gained his feet, and rushed over to the cradle.  He gathered up Alaryn and brought the baby back to the bed, holding him rather awkwardly, as though he wasn't certain what to do.  In a flash of brilliance, he handed the squirming baby to me…as though I knew any better than he did why our son was crying.  

      Now while I know next to nothing about babies, I do know that they like to eat, sleep, and poop…seeing as Alaryn didn't really smell bad, and he obviously wasn't sleeping, I gathered that he might be hungry.  I felt a bit like an idiot, unlacing my nightgown, and baring one of my breasts…, which seemed rather larger than they'd been a few months earlier.  I put Alaryn's face in the right place, and his mouth, rather instinctively sought out my nipple.  My son started suckling, rather more strongly that I would've thought, his little mouth very warm.  I'm positively certain that I was blushing as badly as Andar usually does when I say something "naughty" to him…I felt embarrassed, even though there wasn't really anything to be embarrassed about.  After all, hadn't I seen other woman, about the town, doing the same thing…only in public?  At least only Andar was here to see me.  Andar was watching me intently, and not with the unusual, lustful expression that he generally had when seeing any part of me unclothed.

      "What does it feel like?" he asked suddenly.

      "Well, you could try feeding him yourself and find out," I teased.  Now it was Andar who was blushing, and I felt a bit better.

      "Actually," I added, "It's not so different from when you…uh…do the same thing…kind of like a mini-version of you, except I don't really feel…aroused by it?"  I finished a bit weakly.  It was silly, trying not be my usual blunt self… after all, it's not like the baby understood anything I was saying anyhow.  

      After a little bit, Alaryn just kind of drifted back off to sleep with a tiny sigh.  

      "Now what do I do?" I whispered, trying to be very still and not wake Alaryn up.

      "I guess we put him back in the cradle," Andar replied, uncertainly.  I bit my lip, and looked down on Alaryn's face, feeling a bit…odd.

      "I'd rather not…not yet.  I…want to hold him for a bit more."

      "All right," Andar nodded.  I abused my lower lip more still.

      "But I'm still tired…what if I fall asleep?"

      "Don't worry about it," Andar advised.  "If you're tired, just go to sleep."

      "But what if I fall asleep, and I roll over onto him?  Or what if…"

      "Shh…I'll watch you…I'll stay awake.  You won't hurt him," Andar reassured me.

      "You promise?" I asked.  He nodded.  Gods I felt so strange…so nervous and happy and confused all at once.  But I trusted Andar, so I lay back down, on my side and settled my baby in my arms, so that I could watch him. A moment later Andar laid down across from me, his head propped up on one arm, watching us.  The silence was not complete…I could still hear the occasional shout and drifting laughter from the party below…but it did not seem very important at the moment.  Not in comparison with what was before me.  The soft, steady rhythm of Andar's breathing, combined with the hypnotic rise and fall of Alaryn's tiny chest conspired against me, and I found my self falling more and more towards sleep, until I finally gave in, and closed my eyes, the sight of my husband and my child burning behind my eye lids and into my dreams.

      It's been over a month since Gully was born…or rather, Alaryn.  I know, I should have written more by now, especially with all that has happened since then…still, things have been so hectic around here…and it seems like I never have more than a second or two to myself.  I guess I didn't really realize just how much having a baby would change my life…still…given the choice; I would've gone through with it anyhow.  I can't imagine not having my Gully, even if he can be loud and smelly at times.  Really, though, those things seem minor…at least they do, unless it's some time after midnight, and Gully wakes up and wants to be fed.  Fortunately, he's what mother calls a "good baby," meaning, that he doesn't cry constantly, he doesn't have some dreaded thing called the "colic," which, apparently, Josyln had had, and he generally sleeps the same hours that Andar and I do…most of the time.  

      I suppose I should explain the "Gully" thing, right?  You see, a day or so after he was born, everyone wanted to see Alaryn.  And seeing as how I was still confined to my bed…for at least another week…clerics' orders…and I wasn't about to let anyone take Alaryn out into the cold winter air…even for a few yard's trip over to the great hall…well…let's just say that people began to descend upon my tower in short order.  Since I wasn't keen on the idea of having the entire keep tromping through my bedroom, seeing me in my night dress, I had Andar set up a smaller bed in the room on the main floor, and got my mother's assistance in putting on some actual clothing, and braiding my hair.  Fortunately, my mother is a very smart person, and some of the things she's been making over the winter were new dresses for me…special outfits that opened easily in the front, so that Gully could have easy access to his…food source.  Then I had Andar carry me downstairs…seeing as he wouldn't hear of me walking by myself…oh, perish the thought…I was still too "weak," naturally.  It didn't seem to matter to him that I was feeling better, and probably quite capable of walking on my own.  After all, I'd had battle wounds that pained me more.  I got settled in the bed downstairs, sitting up easily thanks to a great many pillows behind my back, and then Andar brought Alaryn down to me, carrying the baby as though he were the most delicate of fragile things.  Not that I wasn't still doing the same thing at that point, mind you…all though, since then I've come to realize that Alaryn is far sturdier than he looks.

      Then they descended.  First was my family…all though mom and dad had already seen and held the baby a dozen times already, they still ooh and awed and acted like the perfect besotted grandparents, which they were, or course.  Tristain grinned a whole lot, and kept pounding Andar on the back and congratulating me…although I think he was having more fun hitting Andar than anything else.  Thera was less than impressed, declaring that babies were boring, and funny looking, and that she didn't want one.  She promptly escaped at the earliest convenience…no doubt to abuse poor Nym.  With Joslyn, I finally found some measure of acceptance, seeing as she thought that Gully was just the most wonderful thing ever…"just like a living doll", she put it.  On the bright side, however, if I can ever work up enough courage to let my son out of my sight for more than a few minutes at a time, I now have the perfect baby-sitter, right?  And Beckett…well…Beckett took one look at Gully, turned to my father, and asked just exactly how had Andar and I made the baby.  My father's face turned as red as his hair for a moment, and mother gave him a very pointed look.  I gathered that she'd been trying to have my father explain "things" to Beckett for some time now, and that Dad had merely been giving some sort of "the stork brings babies" excuse.  Obviously it would no longer work, seeing as Beckett understood damned well that his nephew had come from my belly.  And then Joslyn looked curious as well… so my father was forced to take them off and try to sputter through an explanation.  It was probably amusing to watch…and you'd think, being that he's a bard, that he'd have had an easier time of it.  But, Tristain confided in me that, our father was rather easily embarrassed about that sort of thing, and he had tried three times before coming up with a plausible explanation for Tristain. Tristain had been fifteen at the time, and already knew the answer to the question, and so had enjoyed Dad's discomfort.  

      Gull came by next.  He hadn't seen the baby yet, and I was a little upset that he'd waited so long.  He came in just as my father left with my overly curious siblings in tow, and I noticed the others suddenly came up with reasons to leave the room for a few moments.  Gull seemed a little more…nervous, for lack of a better word, than usual.  He walked over to the bed, and looked down at the baby.

      "Well…he's kind of…wrinkly, isn't he?"  Gull commented in his usual raspy voice.

      "I named him after you," I stated, airily, as though it meant little.

      "Alaryn…I heard.  Poor kid…he'll have to go through life with a name like that," Gull joked.  

      "I like that name," I snapped.  "I thought…oh, hells, never mind.  It doesn't matter anyhow."

      "What?" Gull asked.

      "Forget it," I turned my head away, keeping my eyes on Alaryn, trying not to be upset.  I wouldn't have named my son after Gull if I had thought Gull wouldn't care…

      "Raine…I'm sorry," Gull rasped, startling me.  I may have mentioned it before, but Gull rarely apologizes…to anyone.

      "I'm…honored that you named your boy after me…really.  I…I meant what I said that day." I've noticed that whenever Gull gets emotional he seems to repeat the same things to me.  

      "I did…I do kind of think of you like a daughter…it's just that…I feel a bit out of sorts here, with your father around.  Back on Caer Callidyr, you needed me…but here…you've got everything you could possibly need or want…what use could you possible have for an old thief like myself?  You've got a father now…I don't want to try to take his place."  It was one of the longer speeches I'd ever heard him say…and certainly the most…poignant?  I'd not even considered that Gull might feel uncomfortable around here…that he felt bad about my father.  I assumed that he was content, building his traps with Jeblek, training the boys around the keep…He told me that he hadn't really wanted to go out and thieving again...not for a while anyhow... although I've yet to pry anymore out of him than that.                              

      "Gull…no matter what has passed and who is here now, you'll always be important to me…I thought you knew that.  And of course I still need you…would I have defied fate to bring you back, otherwise?  I need you in my life, because…well, because I love you.  You were my teacher, and my friend…and my father, too. Who knows what I might've become if not for you."

      "Perhaps something far better than the thief I taught you to be," Gull muttered.

      "That's enough, Gull.  I'm not ashamed of what or who I am, and I'll not stand for you being ashamed either," I snapped.  Gull sighed.  Then he looked up, and I saw that he was grinning.

      "That's my girl…don't ever let anyone feel bad about who you are…not even me."

      "You taught me well," I smiled at him.  Then the mushy moment was over with, thankfully.  Gull and I never were much for open displays of sappiness with each other, anyhow.  

      "Well, let's see this boy," Gull demanded, and I handed Alaryn over to him.  Jostled awake, Alaryn looked up at Gull…or at least he looked like he was looking.  

      "Hello, there," Gull rasped at the baby.  Alaryn then promptly opened his mouth and let out a wail.  It didn't even seem to faze Gull.  And at that moment, the door opened, and Captain Takklin came in, escorting Kedra, who was now, at least, actually looking as though she were pregnant.  Takklinn looked at Gull and my screaming son, and muttered,

      "Ye never should've named the lad after yon Gull there, Miss Raine.  He even sounds a bit like a wee Gully…our poor ears will never be the same."  

      Well, suffice to say that nothing in my keep is kept secret for long, and within a day everyone had heard of Captain Takklinn's comment.  And that's why everyone calls Alaryn, "Gully" now.  I don't really mind much, though.  I happen to think it's a rather cute nickname, even if Gull claims I've just doomed my son to having a terrible voice.  I don't think so, though.  

      So, after Gull left, I had a bit of a talk with Kedra.  The dwarf girl wanted to know what giving birth was like, and I was torn between wanting to soften the blow, so to speak, and telling her the gods-awful truth.  I sort of did both…no sense in lying to her, when she'd be finding out soon enough just how horrible giving birth was.  You know, if I ever find out which god is responsible for the manner in which people are forced to reproduce, I swear I'll…well, yell at him or something…since I can't very well have it out with a god…and I just know it was a male god who did it.  That's the only excuse for the lack of pain that men suffer, and the overabundance that women do.  

      With Kedra though, I also added that one look at her baby would be all it would take to make the pain she suffered seem like a bad memory, and nothing more.  I know that I'm right on that account…after all, don't I love my Gully more than anything else?  And besides…what else besides that and stupidity would induce women to have more than one baby, anyhow?                               

           So, the first couple weeks ended up going by very quickly.  Pretty much all my waking hours were spent focused on Gully.  Sometimes, though, I find I'll look over and see him, or I'll hear him cry, and I momentarily wonder where he came from…he's just that new to me.  And sometimes I'll just stare at him, watching him, studying every tiny movement he makes…I admit it…at moments like that, I'm completely entranced by my baby. A tribe of Firbolg giants could walk through the tower, and I probably wouldn't even notice.  

      Of course, I haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep, though.  The problem is, that when Gully's asleep, or in his cradle, I get this irrational fear that if I'm not watching him something will happen…he'll get a chill, or stop breathing…and it'll be all my fault.  I'm terrified that he'll die or get sick…so I've been staying up, checking him every few minutes or so.  Not that Andar isn't just as bad as I am, of course…sometimes the both of us will just stand there, hovering over Gully's cradle, silently, so as to hear the sound of his breathing.  Then of course, add to that the fact that when Gully is hungry, he lets me know…no matter what hour it is, and well…you can see why I haven't been sleeping much.  After about two weeks of that, though, Andar finally came up with a solution.  It was after the fifth time up in one night that Andar finally told me to bring Gully into the bed with us.  I was skeptical about the idea at first, once again worried that I might roll over onto him, or hurt him or something.  But Andar stated that Gully was a very intelligent baby and that if one of us rolled over onto him, he had a perfectly good voice and would let us know.  Besides, he argued, if Gully slept with us, we wouldn't have to get up so often to check him…he would be right there…and if he got hungry, well…I wouldn't have to get up to feed him.

      After the initial nervous night or two, I got used to the situation, and found that it was, indeed, much more convenient all around, and I was able to get a bit more sleep.  

      I finally left the tower around the same time as that…I'd been trapped in it for nearly two weeks, and was going a bit stir crazy.  So I went around and talked to all the people at the keep, took a look around at everything and so forth.  Last week I convinced Gull to give me my swords back…not that I didn't know where he'd been hiding them.  I've been getting up in the mornings, and sparring again, with Tristain and some of the men…I've lost most of the weight that I'd gained while carrying Gully, since there's no sense in getting out shape or practice.  Andar would watch Gully while I worked.  I would go in only when Andar came out to tell me that Gully was hungry, or when I would get antsy to see my baby and make certain he was all right. So, things have been pretty much been getting back to normal around here.  Normal for winter, that is…seeing as we're pretty much snowed in at the keep.  I haven't seen Guar and Violet, or Dazelin and Cally for a while now…seeing as how they're no doubt snowed in down by Ashabenford.  That's the trouble with snow…it makes traveling impossible.  It'll probably be spring before I see any of the people in the city again, unless of course Daz decides to teleport up here…which I doubt.  Well, enough writing for now…I can't believe that no one has come in to bother me before now. Besides, I have to go check on the baby, don't you know…

      So, it's been while…again…but I suppose it doesn't really matter.  It's my journal, and I'll write in it when I want to.  Yesterday was Greengrass…and unlike the festival last year, which was relatively warm and nice…we still had snow on the ground this year.  When they say "hard winter" in the dales, they mean it.  Still, there was a festival all the same…only we all had to wear warmer clothing…and there was no "playing" in the fields this time.  It's hard to believe that it's been almost two years since I got here…so much has happened…and in such a small amount of time.  

      Gully's three months old now, and I swear he's the cutest baby in the whole world…not that I'm prejudiced, mind you.  His dark hair lightened a bit, and it's pretty much the same light brown that Andar's is.  His eyes are the same dark blue with gold that mine are, however, and are the only feature he has that is really indicative of his elven heritage...well, he has a slight point to his ears too.  He's got the softest skin, and this little chubby, round face…and when he smiles…and he does often, as of late…I swear I start acting all silly and sappy, and go on and on about what a perfect little boy he is, and so on.  I've pretty much taken to the role of being a mother, even if I don't know what I'm doing half the time.  Of course mom says that's all part of being a parent anyhow. Gully's gotten a lot bigger, too…or at least he weighs more than he did.  The truth is, I don't think that there's anyone at the keep that doesn't think that Gully is wonderful…well…maybe Jeblek…but we're talking about a gnome that talks to an iron maiden while he works…  Even the men are always passing him about, and arguing over who gets to hold him next.  Rather odd, seeing as most of my men are single, or widowed.  And Andar is a great dad…or at least I think so.  He never complains about changing Gully's diapers, he's always holding him and playing with him, and talking to him…he's just... well... wonderful…and I don't think I could feel happier than when I watch my husband and my son together.

      Kedra's beginning to complain lately…she's almost to the end of her pregnancy, although she seems a lot bigger than I ever got.  And she's being really bitchy, too…gods, I hope I was that bad…  She's got two months to go…which makes her pregnancy one whole year.  I gather that dwarves are pregnant longer that humans of half-elves, but not as long as full-blood elves.  I shudder at the thought.  9 months was bad enough.  Still, I'm sympathetic… after all, Kedra is one of my best friends, and the only person who's on my said in any men versus women battle.

        Violet had her baby a week ago…a…cute? little? half-orc girl, with Violet's hair and Guar's eyes.  They brought her to the Greengrass festival, claiming that little Daisy was already sturdy enough to handle traveling…and looking at Daisy, I had to agree that she certainly looked sturdy enough, seeing as how at one week old, she's much bigger and much heavier than my Gully is at three months.  Strangely enough, when I let Guar hold Gully, Gully didn't seem in the slightest afraid of this new person…and I have to say that Guar can be rather scary looking…but Gully seemed to take to Guar well-enough… not that Gully seems to mind new people, mind you.  In fact, I'm positive that my son likes being the center of attention, seeing as how he usually is.  

      Despite the cold, all of my friends showed up at the festival…even Dazelin and Cally…Dazelin complaining the whole time about how it was too cold to be outside, and that it was too bright.  He wore a heavy hooded cloak the whole time, grumbling under his breath.  Cally oohed and aahed appropriately over my Gully…and even Guar's Daisy.  Despite the heavy robes and cloak she was wearing, though, I could see that her belly was beginning to round out as well…I was right!  Still, everyone had a good time, and I was finally glad to be able to move around without feeling like a beached whale, and being able to drink something with more kick in it than milk or water.

      After the festival, Andar and I went over to Ashabenford to visit some more with Dazelin and Cally.  Once inside, and warm, I saw something rather amusing…Dazelin was constantly watching Cally…his eyes following her every movement, then resting on her when she sat down.  But as soon as she turned her head towards him, he would pretend like he hadn't been looking at her.  Dazelin was in love!!  For all that he had made fun of me, and laughed when I had fallen for Andar last year, he'd gone and fallen into the same situation!  Haha!  Sweet revenge!  Knowing this, I wasn't surprised in the slightest when Cally told us that she and Dazelin meant to be married as soon as the snow finished melting…probably in a month or two.  Dazelin didn't say much, but he certainly didn't seem to be protesting or reluctant about said wedding.  I immediately began to needle him…, which he took in surprising good nature…damn…he really _is_ in love!  Still, he managed to rise to the occasion and come up with a few jabs at me…, which made me perfectly happy.  After all…Dazelin and I are never really happy when we're getting along completely.  They invited Andar and I to the wedding, which would be held down by Deepingdale, where Cally's family and fellow followers of Elistraee lived.  That had been, apparently, where Dazelin had gone when he'd disappeared for a few weeks.  Andar and I agreed, of course, seeing as how I number Dazelin among my closest friends, along with Guar and Kedra.  We spent the rest of the evening making plans about how we would get there, and so forth…mainly I was worried about Gully traveling so far, but Dazelin merely replied that he would teleport us down there if I was gong to fuss so much, then proceeded to mutter that being a mother was turning me weak, silly, and hen-ish.  I merely smiled serenely at him, and replied that I couldn't wait to see what being a father would do his sorry, dark elven self…then looked pointedly at Cally's belly…, which she really had been trying to hide.  It's really odd to see a drow blush…I meant Cally, not Dazelin…Dazelin just shrugged, and said something to the effect that it wasn't his fault that Cally was so…impatient.  Cally blushed more, then regained control over herself, whispered something softly into Dazelin's ear…and I was gifted with the sight of seeing Dazelin blush.  It was magnificent!  Ah…I'm really beginning to admire Cally, as well as like her.  

      We ended up spending the night there, seeing as I didn't want to travel at night with Gully there.  Dazelin now had a guest room, thanks to Cally…where his over-stocked, ill-organized storage room once was.  The room was very nice, although I just know it must've killed Dazelin to let his wife-to-be move things around in his house.

      Over the next few weeks, with the return of spring, came the return of annoyances, like bandits, and monsters creeping out of the woods and causing trouble.  With Kedra unable to do much, Guar and I went off on a few jaunts, once after a trio of ogres that were causing a bit of destruction in one of the smaller farming communities near the Battledale-Mistledale border…once after some goblins and a few kobolds…it was sad pickings to say the least, and the battles were so boring that if it weren't for the fact that we didn't want the creatures causing trouble for the farmers, who couldn't protect themselves as easily, Guar and I probably would've left them for some other adventurers.  Needless to say though, we never went more than a day away from home…and we got the fights over with quickly, both Guar and I wanting to get home to our respective spouses and children.  Kind of sad, really…we defeated enemies like dragons, and drow, and the Cult, and are now reduced to kobolds again.  Although, the truth is…as long as those tougher groups aren't causing any trouble, I have no complaints with not fighting them.  Since having Gully, I've been feeling more protective of my own life…I want to see my son grow older… and I want to be there for everything.  I don't have any intentions of permanently giving up adventuring, though...not as long as there are creatures and people around who feel the need to do evil to innocent people.  Still, for the time being, if nothing but a few monsters and your average bandit wants to make noise, that's fine with me.  I'd rather spend the time with my family and friends…and of course there's the planting and the bees, and the keep…more than enough to keep me occupied.  

      Speaking of occupied…the elves came back…the ones from last year, and a few more besides.  They're finishing setting up the interior of the tower and so forth…pretty much they'll be living there.  And I finally found a Captain for Kelerandri tower.  He came to the keep about a week ago, with a message from my mother.  His name is Ilyriian Kelerandri, and he's apparently my cousin, my mother's nephew.  Needless to say he's considerably older than I am… almost as old as my mother. Apparently, he's the son of my mother's older brother.  Ilyriian had heard from the local elves about the tower, and had just returned from Evermeet.  Apparently he wasn't quite as unforgiving or prejudiced about my mother's marriage, or my being a half-elf as the rest of our family.  He'd heard what I'd done, and about the reasons for the building of the tower.  He thought it was a great idea, and wanted to know if he might take up service, and live at the tower with the others who were there.  Well, I talked with him for a while, got a sense of who he is, what he believes in.  I asked him what he did, and he claimed to be a warrior of no small skill, as well as a bit of a wizard.  So I decided to test him as I had with Takklinn.  Now, Captain Takklinn is no slouch at fighting…even better since I've been training with him a bit, showing him some tricks…and I'm not what you would call a lousy fighter either…but my cousin gave me quite a fight.  It wasn't like Takklinn or some of the others I'd been training…I didn't have to hold back.  Ilyriian took everything I could dish out and more…he was extremely skilled and I even picked up a few tricks from just that one fight…by the time I defeated him… and I admit it was a victory of a narrow margin…we were both sweating and out of breath, and looked around to see that we had quite an audience…mainly most of the keep's off duty…and some on…soldiers.  Most had been watching us intently, and now had awed expressions on their faces.  That was enough for me.

      "So," my cousin asked, "May I stay, and join you against the drow?"  I wiped the sweat from my face, and looked over at him.

      "So," I replied.  "How would you like to be the Captain of Kelerandri tower?"  His eyes widened, and he bowed.  

      "I would be honored."

      "You'll have to work with a dwarf," I added, gesturing to Takklinn.  "My Captain of the forces of Banshee keep and Steelguard tower, Captain Takklin."  Ilyriian shrugged.

      "If he is a good enough warrior to pass your test, cousin…and may I compliment you on such a fine battle?…then he is good enough for my regard," he saluted Captain Takklinn, the dwarf merely raised an eyebrow and accepted the salute.

      So I left them to it, knowing that they would have to do a great deal of talking.  Captain Takklinn knew the entire layout of Kelerandri tower, and he would see that Ilyriian would know the way around the various towers and keeps.  In a while…when Ilyriian proves himself a bit more, we'll show him the tunnels.

      So, everything is going well for me…who would've ever believed it.  I'm married…I have a son…I have my family back…I have a home.  I'm fairly successful as an adventurer and I'm a Harper…, which doesn't seem like much, but worker for a group of people bent on good and helping people is one of the proudest things that I've ever done. The tower is up and ready to go. The elves are giving me a chance to prove I mean well, just as the dwarves of Glen, and the Harpers and the Lords of Battle and Mistledale did. I have some of the best friends any one could ever ask for.  Guar and Violet are happy with their Daisy.  Kedra's and Captain Takklinn's baby will be born anytime now…Dazelin and Cally will be married in a few weeks…all of our children will grow together.  I never would've envisioned a life like this for me…not in my wildest, weirdest dreams…not once. I've gone a long way from that clumsy kid Lady Emilia found washed up on the shore so long ago.  I'm not the same thieving, troublemaking brat I was when Gull met me.  I've gone even farther from the pampered little girl I was before I was kidnapped.  Yet, somehow, I'm still all of those people, put into one.  You know, when I started this journal, I hardly expected that I would live long enough, or care enough about anything, even my own life, to finish it.  And…well…I was right, seeing as I did die once…but still, here it is…two years after I began…and this is the very last page in this journal.  I'm out of room, can you believe it?  I have to say that writing all this down had kept me occupied…all though I certainly wrote more when I was in the midst of my most dangerous adventuring than I do when I've time off…funny that, don't you think?  Maybe I'll start another journal in a little while…or maybe I'll take a break…not that I don't take breaks all the time, as evidenced by the long spans of time between some of my entries, right?  Well…I hope you enjoyed reading about me…'cause I enjoyed the writing.  Until next journal,

                                                                                                                             _Tressa Raine Hawklight,  "The Banshee"      _

      **P.S.**  Kedra had twins…a girl and a boy, a few months after the last entry.  Almost a year after that, Dazelin's wife, Cally had a little girl.  Dazelin tries to pretend that he isn't completely entranced by his daughter…but he's turned into an idiot…just like he claimed that I did.  And Kedra's even worse about her fussing than I am, seeing as she's got the same problem times two.  Gully's walking and talking now…and if I find out which one of my "friends" taught him the curse words, which he's happily repeating to everyone…well…let's just say they won't be happy with the punishments I come up with for them…on the bright side, now that all of my closest friends have kids…well, teaching dirty words to small children works both ways, doesn't it…hehehe.  On a final note, that damnable priest has gotten me pregnant again.  Still, Gully's such a perfect baby, maybe having another won't be so bad…  Isn't life grand!  


End file.
